


fairytale of new york

by deuteroscopies



Series: the prophet and the king [32]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Class Differences, Cum Play, Established Relationship, Food Porn, Hotel Sex, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Underage Prostitution, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Orgasm Control, Power Play, Public Sex, Romantic Gestures, Rough Sex, Sexual Submission, Vacation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-05-06
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:53:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 44,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24046945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deuteroscopies/pseuds/deuteroscopies
Summary: Freddie takes Ephram for their first real trip outside of Soapberry Springs -- to New York, where he treats his man to the type of luxury that Ephram had never dreamed of in his impoverished upbringing. They experience fine dining, tourist staples with an erotic twist, and a breakfast that (along with the unexpected shift in their power dynamic out in the wider world) changes their lives forever.
Relationships: Freddie Watts/Ephram Pettaline
Series: the prophet and the king [32]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1551673





	fairytale of new york

**Author's Note:**

> > Freddie Watts = Tom Hardy FC, Ephram Pettaline = Boyd Holbrook FC. These stories are set in the supernatural town of Soapberry Springs, in the Pacific Northwest. Freddie is a fairy con man from London, with cobalt-coloured dragonfly wings and silver fairy dust, who has a Japanese Chin familiar named Oliver; Ephram is a witch from impoverished East Kentucky who shares his body with a demon called Anaxis and has green magic of his own.
>> 
>> [the prophet and the king 'verse tumblr](http://theprophetandtheking.tumblr.com/)  
> 

Freddie was still panting slightly, hair mussed beyond recognition, flushed and sweaty, when he pushed himself up to grin down at Ephram, smoothing his witch’s messy blond hair back out of his eyes, and leaning down to press one more kiss to his reddened, love-swollen mouth. Teasing, “Alright, don’t get too comfortable. I’ve got plans for us this evening, and while they will eventually include quite a bit more of this sort of filth,” the fairy’s eyes sparkled, “-there’s money that needs to be spent, and a city full of people to gag with envy at the sight of my gorgeous husband.”  
  
“Not to mention reservations to keep.”  
  
He climbed, nude, out of the bed they hadn’t even bothered to turn down before christening - Ollie having excused himself to another room in their suite as soon as they’d arrived - and laughingly took Ephram by the hands to pull him up too; kissing him again as soon as his witch was sitting upright with his feet on the floor, and finally heading over to their luggage to extract what he wanted.  
  
“These, please, my darling,” Freddie smiled, handing over an armload of clothing a few moments later. “I’ll bring everything else you’ll need in once you’re in the shower, yeah?”  
  
“Okay,” Ephram finally said when he could say anything at all other than soft gasps, recovering from their exertion. “Yeah, mmm–” He let Freddie pull him up, pliant and distracted by the post-coital beauty of his fairy’s gleaming skin, muscles well-oiled beneath, the proud snap of his blue wings. Ephram curled his toes against the carpet as he watched Freddie glide over to the suitcases, still in an endorphiny dream state. Even though he’d had the international airplane trip to Greece under his belt, flying across the country didn’t pale in comparison by any means. They flew first-class, of course, and Ephram had been keyed up the entire time and exclaiming over everything – the hot towel, the elaborate meal, the luxurious seats – grabbing at Freddie to alert him as if the fairy didn’t already know what first class entailed.  
  
He’d been just as bad in the town car on the way to the hotel, twisting and lunging and smashing against the window trying to take in the city until Freddie, seemingly charmed by all this, tugged him down to hold him firm in one place with a promise that there would be time for sightseeing. Ephram stayed glued to Freddie’s side on the seat, otherwise he would’ve given into his wolfhound impulses and gone back to frantic window-hopping. It was a good thing that once they got into their suite, Freddie had immediately reached up one hand behind Ephram’s neck to pull him in for a kiss, murmuring, “Let’s get the edge off, love, shall we?”  
  
Ephram wasn’t entirely sure, even with his body pleasantly loose and warm, that the edge was off. Back in Soapberry, he was the figure of authority when it came to small towns and especially the one he policed; he was the one who squired his pretty husband around and offered him for admiration. But out here in the world, Ephram was naturally biddable, dependent as he was on Freddie to help him fit in decently. Which explained the lurch of gratitude and adoration when Freddie presented what he wanted Ephram to wear.  
  
Finally unfurling to standing, Ephram told Freddie, “Thank you, sugarplum. You … you’re….” He felt himself choke up suddenly, and reached out to clasp his husband’s hands. “You’re always doin’ your best to make sure I’m happy and I can have a moment for my own self, with only you and nobody else to worry over. I can’t tell you just how deep an effect that has on me, Freddie, how thankful I am for it. How goddamn thankful I am to have you and that you know what I need. That you give it to me.” Looking around at their suite, Ephram gave a little bit of a honking chortle, raising an eyebrow at Freddie and murmuring, “…even when I cost you a fortune.”  
  
“Oh, sweetheart,” Freddie breathed, squeezing Ephram’s hands and then bringing them to his lips to press kisses to his knuckles. “Ephram, I…” He looked up, blue eyes warm and adoring, wanting to say a thousand things at once; to pour out something beautiful and poetic that would perfectly express to his husband how utterly and hopelessly in love he was. How nothing ever had, or could, mean as much to him as Ephram’s happiness. But instead, he trailed off, continuing to look up into his witch’s eyes, waited a beat, and then said simply and softly, “You’re welcome, love.”  
  
Because Ephram already knew the depth and the force of Freddie’s love for him - and Freddie wouldn’t undermine his husband’s feelings of gratitude by waving them away or calling them unnecessary. By making this moment about him.  
  
“It’s my absolute privilege to be able to do those things for you.”  
  
And when Ephram laughed at the monetary expense of Freddie’s endeavours, the fairy just grinned cheekily, snorting, “Pfft. Fortunes are meant to be spent. That’s the entire reason to have them in the first place. And besides, you’re worth every penny.”  
  
He pushed himself up and nipped playfully at Ephram’s lower lip, winking, “You know there’s nothing in the world more fun for me than spoiling you rotten…”  
  
“Gets me hard just thinking about it.”  
  
“But go on,” Freddie commanded teasingly, “-get your arse into the shower before I decide I want it for dinner. Because we’ve got two sets of reservations to keep, and a bit of sightseeing to be done in the middle - and if we don’t get our skates on, sharpish, we’re going to be even later for all of it than I can comfortably consider fashionable.” He grinned again. “I may actually have to join you in the shower to save time.”  
  
Finding this to be an excellent suggestion, Ephram pulled Freddie along to the shower with him, where he proceeded to use a lavish and extravagant amount of the complimentary bath products on washing them up. They hadn’t had any actual discussion about it, but part of the etiquette of these luxe outings was that neither of them talked about how much anything cost. That way, Ephram could blissfully lather Freddie’s back with La Mer and have no clue about the pricetag, only the experience.  
  
Despite the temptation to stay under the hot water with their hands all over each other, Ephram sent Freddie off first with a slap to the backside. “You take more primping time than I do,” he teased. “And you gotta bring me whatever else it is you said you was gonna bring me. Whatever that is.”  
  
He was curious, Ephram couldn’t deny that. After all, his clothes had already been chosen, what else more was there to an outfit? “Honey,” Ephram called over the running water, “how can we have two reservations? What’re we gonna be doing? Do we gotta change in between?” Honestly, it wasn’t even as if Ephram needed the answers to these questions. He just liked asking them, knowing that his husband had plans for where they were going and what they were doing, liked the contentment that even just talking to Freddie brought. “Babe, you think I should get me a haircut while we’re here? Look more presentable?”  
  
Freddie laughed when Ephram shooed him along, enjoying both the faint sting of the smack, and the red mark he knew would linger for a few moments afterward as he dried himself off, stealing one last peck of Ephram’s lips before tearing himself away to begin what had been accurately described as his primping regimen. “Well, my reflection gets lonely without me,” he parried back with a grin, lazily toweling himself off as he enjoyed the picturesque Appalachian view, “It needs to feel appreciated.”  
  
“But you’re right,” he called back over his shoulder, dropping his towel on the floor and reaching for a robe as he wandered out to collect the rest of the things from their bags that he felt were essential to Ephram’s ensemble for the evening. “-I wasn’t quite done with you yet.”  
  
The fairy returned, only a few moments later, with the wash bag he’d packed for his husband - Ephram’s toiletries, cologne, tooth brush, hair brush, and so on - and arranged those things on the counter-top before pulling a few more items from the pocket of his robe. Smiling as he examined the ring he’d bought the year before - a jewelled bird that had all but demanded to be Ephram’s - he set it safely beside his witch’s cologne, along with a pair of Fabergé Stanislav cufflinks.  
  
(The cufflinks had been bought specifically for this trip. Champagne and white diamonds set in rose-gold, done by Freddie’s own preferred House of Fabergé. Something frivolous and pretty for his darling, whose opportunities to enjoy a bit of sparkle for himself were often rather thin on the ground at home.)  
  
“We’re having dinner first, love,” Freddie said, raising his voice enough to be heard as he stepped out of the room again to retrieve his own things; only finally beginning to get ready when he returned, standing at the sink and watching Ephram finish his shower in the mirror.  
  
“I’ve booked us an eight o’clock table at a place called Eleven Madison Park…” The fairy grinned mischievously though he knew his husband couldn’t see him clearly. “-which is supposed to be quite good…” (One of the best in the world, actually, and Freddie had used quite a lot of charm and a healthy application of cash to ensure that another couple’s reservation disappeared.) “And then I thought we’d take in the sights a bit; try to get a sense of the city while we’re here.”  
  
“I’ve one particular place in mind for tonight, but nothing else is set in stone…” Freddie paused briefly to shave the more delicate parts of his face, then carried on, “And then I’ve booked us a table and bottle service at midnight at a place my mate Grace recommended.”  
  
“But we won’t need to change, sweetheart,” he promised, glancing back towards Ephram with a smile. “What I’ve chosen for you will suit their dress code without any trouble at all.”  
  
At the mention of a haircut though, Freddie’s brow furrowed and he turned fully, lather still clinging to his face. “Presentable?” he asked, “Darling, you look wonderful as you are. What’s presentability got to do with anything? I mean, if you want a haircut, then we’ll find a good salon and make you an appointment - but I certainly don’t think you need one.”  
  
“Plus,” he added with a chuckle, “-selfishly, I quite like being able to run my fingers through it.”  
  
“Ohhhhhhh,” Ephram drawled from inside the glass shower, angling so that one long thigh smeared the condensation enough to be seen, “I already know you ain’t nowhere near done with me yet, honey.” The mention of supper set Ephram’s belly to rumbling, and he laughed, “I’m hankering for some dinner, awright. I thought I ate a lot on the plane but reckon we worked up an appetite again gettin’ settled into the room, huh?” The recollection of that urgent, fast fuck made Ephram’s desire start to swell again, but he stuck his head under the water and then turned off the shower instead to forestall any temptation to jerk himself off.  
  
Besides which, Freddie was in the bathroom, smoothly listing what the evening’s activities would be, and Ephram very much wanted to get to those. If he started jacking himself then Freddie would get involved and then they’d spend their trip getting familiar with the suite’s furniture and not much more. So instead Ephram stepped out of the shower, reaching for one of the towels – pausing to marvel at its thickness – before giving his head a vigorous drying and emerging with his hair damp and messy. “Listen,” Ephram said, continuing to dry himself off, “if you think it’s fine the way it is, then no reason to get it cut.”  
  
Cupping the towel between his legs for a few strokes, Ephram dropped it to the floor as he leaned in to kiss Freddie’s mouth, licking a trace of the lather from the corner of those promising lips. “I like when you got your hands in my hair,” he murmured, feeling deliciously tended-to at the sight of all his grooming tools laid out for him. “Reminds me who I belong to.” There was something in Ephram that truly got a thrill from being arranged, dressed, adorned the way that Freddie wanted him, and here in the big city it was different than the domesticity of home. Because he was going to be taken out and shown off like a prized possession, like he’d been at New Years’ in Vienna … and where he’d played at being a prostitute in bed later. It felt like a safe fantasy version of that, being a rentboy, and Ephram was startled at how much he liked it. And how Freddie kept engineering opportunities for it.  
  
Taking his place next to Freddie at the double sink, Ephram began the routine grooming process. Since it hardly bore thinking about, he instead drank up the sight of them both in the mirror, Freddie in his robe and Ephram buck naked. The countertop hit a little lower than hip level, and he traced the circle of seared flesh of the demon seal with the tip of his thumb. It no longer looked feverish and raw, but it didn’t look healed, either; in fact, it just didn’t look _right_. Ephram had seen branded flesh before on livestock and horses, and what he had was more as if somebody had superheated a cookie cutter and punched it right through him, cauterizing everything instantly. It was the same as how Freddie’s demon mark looked, under his bandaged palm.  
  
A lurch of disgust with himself for the ways he’d been defiled in his mind, his soul, and most of all his traitorous body showed in the mirror, in a spasm that drew one side of his mouth down before passing. Ephram knew he wasn’t able to hide these things, and all he could do was hope Freddie hadn’t seen it as he ducked into the bedroom to start putting on his clothes. This was the single problem with Freddie giving Ephram these experiences; the clear sincerity of his fairy’s convictions, the obvious wholehearted joy he had in making Ephram happy, they sometimes clashed with Ephram’s inherent conviction that he didn’t deserve to be treated well.  
  
That was improving, of course, with each day he had Freddie by his side saying otherwise. So Ephram mostly tried to let those moments pass and not get overwhelmed. In New York though, with his adrenaline at full pump and his heart almost overloaded with emotion, it was harder to keep on a level. “Hey,” Ephram greeted Ollie as the Chin trotted out of the other room and jumped on the bed, settling as though it was his own by right. “Should we order up some room service for you before we go out?” He finished tucking his shirt in as Oliver watched, obviously weighing something out. Then with a huff of weary affection, the familiar moved over towards Ephram, giving his fingers a lick and pushing a silky ear against his knuckles.  
  
Ephram didn’t say anything, not wanting to disgruntle Ollie, but he ruffled the Chin’s ears and murmured, “Thanks, buddy. Better head back on in so’s I can let Freddie finish dolling me up.”  
  
“As it happens,” Freddie said, joining them; properly beautified now, but still only clad in his loosely-tied robe, Ephram’s jewellery in his pocket once again, “-Freddie’s come to you.”  
  
He walked over to where his witch stood, and smiled softly, taking Ephram gently by the arms and walking him carefully backwards toward the bed; sitting him down again. “It’s not often you’re the one has to look up at me, now is it?” he teased lightly, finger-combing Ephram’s gleaming blond hair into something casually and artfully tousled. The fairy fussed for a moment, playing with a few damp golden strands, then stroked his husband’s cheek with a smile. “Beautiful,” he murmured. “You, my love, look absolutely gorgeous.”  
  
He’d noticed, of course, the shadow that had crossed Ephram’s face in the loo after touching the brand on his hip - he’d seen it reflected in the mirror, unable to keep his eyes off his darling for longer than a second or two at a stretch - and Freddie had opted to give his lover a few moments space when Ephram had walked away. A few moments' privacy, rather than go immediately chasing after him; taking the time to rewrap his hand tightly with the warded linen he wore every day before following his witch back out into their suite, fairy and familiar both acutely aware of the other’s concern as they made their way to his side.  
  
“Are you alright though?” Freddie asked finally, his eyes meeting Ephram’s and holding his gaze. “Or have I gone a bit overboard and you need a bit of time to breathe?  
  
“I know I was nattering on about reservations,” he continued, smiling again and breaking eye-contact, not wanting Ephram to feel put on the spot to answer him; and he lifted one of his husband’s hands, turning it over to gain access to his cuff, and fastened one of his cufflinks, going on to repeat the process with the other. “-but I can just as easily change our trajectory for the evening if you prefer, darling, yeah?”  
  
Freddie slid Ephram’s ring onto the long thick index finger of his witch’s right hand, teasingly stroking that same digit as he withdrew again; hoping to put Ephram in mind of the last place that finger had been. “Because I’ve got all sorts of ideas for things to entertain us while we’re here, love - and we do have two more days…”  
  
Stepping back a bit, the fairy untied his robe, tossing it onto a nearby chair as he began to rummage through their luggage again in search of his own clothes; wings fluttering idly and unconsciously, as they were wont to do when unencumbered, grinning when he found what he wanted. And then, unabashedly on display, he began to dress, his attention back on Ephram; eyes full of warm simmering lust and unshakable pride.  
  
“Do you know…” he murmured, “-I don’t think I’ve _ever_ been so glad to be greedy as when I look at you…”  
  
For some reason, hearing Freddie announce that he’d come to meet them made Ephram’s breath catch; it was one of those moments where everything went diamond-clear and glittery and he was grateful anew to have this man in his life. He never knew when those would come, which made each time just that much more special. Kept him forever falling in love with his sweet husband, time after time.  
  
Padding backwards as Freddie guided him, Ephram curved one hand around the back of Freddie’s thigh once he was sat down being expertly styled. “Nice to be at this angle now and again,” he murmured, bliss emanating from where Freddie’s clever fingers were fletching his hair into more than a bird’s nest. “Means I get to see you from every which way, dumplin’.”  
  
But as Ephram had expected, his moment of fractured self-worth hadn’t gone unnoticed. Freddie broached the subject diplomatically… and then took a gentle conversational roll into something less emotionally fraught without so much as a hitch. It was so deftly executed that Ephram honestly couldn’t say anything for a minute or so; living with Freddie and getting accustomed to seeing his fairy at his most relaxed and trusting had created a certain gap in Ephram’s picture of the former conman, his understanding of the subtleties that Freddie was capable of. But here he was inquiring after Ephram’s state of mind and offering possible solutions while transitioning seamlessly from caring vocally to caring physically, knowing that Ephram could get overwhelmed and maudlin if allowed.  
  
The best comparison that Ephram could come up with for Freddie’s method, specifically tailored for his husband, was like watching somebody cook a French omelette – setting it to rolling and letting it tenderly fold over itself until it toppled out of the pan all perfect and comforting. He looked down at the flashy bird ring on his finger (he could pull off this kind of statement jewelry because he was tall and had big hands, Freddie had proudly informed him as if Ephram had done it on purpose) and rubbed his thumb over it as he watched Freddie put on a display for him.  
  
Ephram loved it, of course. Freddie knew well after two decades of making himself the most prized plum in the room how to show his beauty to its best advantage, and Ephram was only a man, after all.  
  
Well, a man madly in love.  
  
“I want you to be greedy with me,” Ephram said, a little loudly with the suddenness that he started speaking at. “I don’t know how it feels to be wanted that much except when I’m with you, and you didn’t go overboard, Freddie, it’s all fuckin’ perfectly thought out and planned just like you are and I wanna do whatever it is you got on the schedule and anything you wanna do besides.” He stood up, putting on his watch and jacket, giving the cuffs of his shirt a crisp tug. “I want you to make a goddamn banquet out of me, Freddie, I want you to fuckin’ _gorge_ yourself on me till you’re sick with it and then come back for more.”  
  
Ephram’s voice and eyes were fierce now, but he didn’t make a move towards Freddie, keeping it all contained in the tautness of his long muscles. “You understand?” he asked, the words husky and demanding. “ _Be greedy_. Hold every fuckin’ part of me hostage until you got all that you want.”  
  
Freddie’s eyes widened slightly at the volume of Ephram’s voice, the intensity of it, but his husband’s words lit a fire smouldering in his own blue gaze; his pupils growing, and his cock twitching behind the thin layer of fabric it was trapped behind, not yet having stepped into his trousers. He watched as Ephram stood, his witch putting on his jacket and adjusting his cuffs, and it was all Freddie could do to keep himself where he stood. Not to just bundle Ephram back onto the bed and strip him of all the finery he’d so carefully chosen for him; to take him hard and fast, and show him _all_ the ways that he was absolutely Freddie’s.  
  
Woe betide anyone who dared to think otherwise.  
  
But when Ephram asked if Freddie understood what he wanted, radiating a tightly-coiled ferocity and demand, the fairy closed the distance between them in a few brusquely determined strides; and, using the strength he so seldom made the most of, pulled his darling into a possessive hungry kiss; plundering his mouth until they were both breathless, and then taking another one for good measure.  
  
“Believe me, sweetheart, I understand,” Freddie growled, still holding Ephram close, their foreheads touching, lips brushing as he spoke, “-but if you think that it’s even _remotely_ possible for me to ever have my fill of you, in any capacity, then clearly you haven’t been paying attention…”  
  
“You’re mine, love; every last bit of you. Only mine, yeah? And I intend to make a feast of you for the rest of our lives together. You’ve never seen selfishness like the kind I’ve got for you…”  
  
Freddie licked Ephram’s lips, just tasting him, then relaxed his grip and murmured, “Now go tidy yourself up for me while I finishing dressing. I’m going to need to fix your hair again before we go.”  
  
An enthused response was certainly what Ephram expected from his husband, but the prowling, lionlike pounce that Freddie reacted with knocked him breathless for a moment. A moment that continued longer, as Freddie held Ephram fast not only with his lips and mouth but also those considerable muscles, in a way that Ephram didn’t think he’d ever employed them before. It was heady, to think that they could still be bringing out sides of each other that they hadn’t previously suspected, and Ephram spread his hands along the sides of Freddie’s deep chest to feel the growl reverberate there.  
  
There was so much to this man that Ephram didn’t know yet, and he, in turn, was greedy for all of it. Every little fancy and pique and desire, all of Freddie’s disappointments along with his triumphs. Listening to Freddie lay claim to him, over and over in that voice that burred along Ephram’s skin like unfinished leather, the witch could feel something giving way inside him. Little latches that had been welded shut over the course of the last twenty years of his existence, the loneliness and self-flagellation and betrayal.  
  
Freddie pushed his tongue against Ephram’s mouth and it was warm at its breadth and a little cold at the tip and Ephram shivered at the sensual intent behind it, the way that Freddie was still holding him so tight. “Every last bit of me,” Ephram agreed. “It’s yours, just yours. I’m _yours_ , Freddie. I love you.”  
  
He wasn’t all that sure what Freddie meant, telling him to tidy himself up, but once Ephram got into the bathroom he realized he’d been rumpled and reddened by his fairy’s attentions. His skin stayed a bit flushed, but at least once he returned to Freddie everything else had been tugged and smoothed back into place, and Ephram had experimentally tapped his middle finger into a pot of gloss on the counter and slicked it over his bottom lip. He normally carried chapstick with him, but this would do fine.  
  
While Ephram was gone, Freddie took the opportunity to order room service for Ollie, asking that it be brought up as soon as possible, and giving his rather insistent erection the chance to fade before he finished dressing - much to Oliver’s snuffled amusement. But the fairy just rolled his eyes at his friend, stuck up two fingers, and readjusted himself one last time before finally getting into his trousers.  
  
He’d just stepped into his shoes, in fact, the rest of his ensemble note-perfect, jewellery sparkling and lines sharp, when Ephram returned from the loo - still a bit flushed, Freddie noticed with no small amount of pride, but otherwise smartened up. He noticed too the smooth shine of his husband’s lower lip as it caught the light and he smiled, crossing the room to meet him.  
  
“You look lovely,” he said, leaning up to press a gentle kiss to the corner of Ephram’s mouth - careful not to smear his gloss - before once again finger- combing his witch’s hair into some semblance of style and order.  
  
“There,” he proclaimed happily once he was done, giving his darling a wink, “Nobody will ever be able to tell I had my hands all over you not five minutes ago. Though,” the fairy added with a grin, “-since I plan to have my hands all over you again, at every possible opportunity, all night long, that isn’t really saying much…”  
  
Suddenly tempted to muss Ephram up a second time - to indulge that greed they’d talked about, right this instant, and urge his lover down to his knees so that that lovely lip-gloss could be smeared all over his cock - Freddie was actually a bit grateful for the knock on the door when it came. Otherwise, they’d never leave the bloody room.  
  
“One second, sweetheart, yeah?” he promised. “We’ll just get Ollie sorted and then be on our way. The car should already be waiting downstairs.”  
  
So Freddie swung the door wide and Ollie’s dinner was wheeled in; the fairy murmuring his thanks and seeing it’s deliverer off with a rather large tip before uncovering the little Chin’s spicy tuna tartare, his cheese and charcuterie board, and dessert of profiteroles. Setting it all out so that it was easily accessible, filling a crystal tumbler with spring water, and then turning on the television.  
  
“Have a good night, mate,” he told Ollie, giving his familiar’s ears a small ruffle. “We’ll try not to wake you when we come in.”  
  
And Oliver, for his part, leaned into Freddie’s touch, giving an affectionate snort to indicate how likely he thought that possibility, before nodding a fond goodbye at Ephram and tucking into his dinner, already shifting his attention to the film in front of him. Old man that he was, he was rather looking forward to his night in.  
  
Freddie smiled, offering his arm to his husband. “Shall we, sweetheart?” he asked. “Not long ago you were feeling rather hungry yourself…”  
  
“Feeling even more hungry now, after seeing what Ollie’s havin’ for supper,” Ephram laughed. “Enjoy, buddy!” He pressed his fingertips briefly against the little Chin’s foreleg before slipping his arm through Freddie’s, marveling at the thrill of it.  
  
“You look like a million bucks,” he remarked as they left their suite for the elevator. “I mean, ain’t like you’re a church mouse back home, but it’s always a whole new thing to see you dressed to the nines. To the tens.” Ephram looked thoughtful, eyeing Freddie with a considering eye. “Can a person be dressed to the twenties? Reckon you done it, if so.”  
  
Ephram’s tone was light and happy, teasing, but the sentiment was absolutely sincere; it was riveting for him to see the levels of wardrobe that Freddie could employ, and he resolved privately to one day get his pretty, well-landscaped fairy into scruffier country boy clothes and see how he looked. Ravishing, most likely – even if the odds were high that he’d be complaining and pouting the whole time. Ephram liked Freddie pouting, anyhow.  
  
But he liked this Freddie, too, the polished urbanite who knew how to navigate a world of wealth and prestige and glamour, and the way Freddie made Ephram feel as though he belonged (or at least didn’t stick out like a sore calloused thumb). “I don’t guess I’ll ever get used to all this highbrow living,” Ephram said as they got into the elevator, as luxuriously appointed as the rest of the hotel. “Which is like to be better for me in the long run or I’d go full-on Beverly Hillbilly.” Ephram drew closer to Freddie, allowing himself to revel in his husband’s considerable musculature, the lavish handsomeness of his features that drew eyes once they reached the lobby and Freddie confidently led Ephram in the direction of the waiting car.  
  
It dawned on Ephram that this was the big city, after all, and glued to Freddie’s side without the usual comportment of The Law radiating visibly from him, the impression they left on people wasn’t the same as back home. Even more so than in Austria (where to be fully honest Ephram had only had eyes for Freddie anyhow), New York gave them the lassitude to step outside of their usual parameters and try on something else.  
  
So Ephram kept tight hold of Freddie, casting a proud look at anybody whose eyes he met and making it clear with his body language that this gorgeous creature was his man. Drawing himself up to full height, Ephram murmured to Freddie, “…wherever it is you’re taking me, sweetheart, I sure hope it’ll be somewheres we’re gonna get seen. I want people to see you squiring me round and get jealous as fuck, knowing it ain’t them you’re gonna be bringin’ back tonight to hammer your cock into.”  
  
Ephram gave a bright, dazzling smile, patting his hand just below the knot of Freddie’s tie before he folded himself into the car.  
  
Freddie’s chest swelled at his husband’s compliments as they headed off towards the lift, leaving Ollie to his own devices, their evening finally really underway, and he grinned, covering the hand Ephram was using to hold the crook of his arm with his own. Rather enjoying the way he was being cuddled into; this stretching and shifting of their usual roles as they indulged in a new adventure together.  
  
“Why thank-you, darling,” the fairy said happily as the doors opened and he was able to guide them inside to begin their descent down to the lobby. “It’s always lovely to hear that I’ve made an impression and given you something to look at.”  
  
“And you’re not a hillbilly,” he chastised with a gentle smirk, “But as awful as it probably makes me, I have to admit that there’s a part of me that hopes you never get _entirely_ accustomed to all this sort of nonsense. Because, selfishly, I absolutely love the way that your eyes light up when I can take you somewhere new and immerse you in all the decadent opulence that I can muster.”  
  
“I love you,” he went on, reaching up to take Ephram by the chin and draw him into one more soft kiss as the elevator stopped on the ground floor; smiling as he pulled back again, “-and I’m incredibly glad that you’ve let me whisk you away again on no notice whatsoever…”  
  
“Here’s hoping that Soapberry behaves itself while we’re away, yeah?”  
  
The two of them strode through the lobby and out the front door; and, as they did, Freddie couldn’t help but revel a little in the way that his husband clung to him. In the proud lift of Ephram’s chin and the square set of his shoulders - everything about him exuding a delicious sort of confidence and satisfaction. It was a heady feeling to see his darling so gratified, and Freddie couldn’t get enough.  
  
Though, when that burnt sugar voice teased exactly the impression that he wanted to make on New York City as a whole, before patting Freddie’s chest and climbing into the car with the kind of smile that put the sun to shame, brazen and gorgeous, the fairy let out a small groan as he followed, his prick giving a throb of desire behind his zip.  
  
Giving their destination to the driver, Freddie tugged Ephram close again as soon as they began to move, a wicked smile curling his own lips as they brushed against Ephram’s earlobe. “It’s _adorable_ that you think I’ll want to wait until we’re back at the hotel to put you on my cock…” he murmured, dropping a hand between Ephram’s legs to give him a squeeze before pulling slightly back again. “…but don’t you worry about being seen, yeah?” Freddie grinned, taking one of Ephram’s hands and dropping a playful kiss on his knuckles. “We’ll be able to smell the envy in the air, I promise.”  
  
Despite the traffic, it didn’t take long to reach the restaurant, and when the car pulled up to let them off, Freddie tipped the driver, instructed him to return in two hours unless he received a text stating otherwise, and held the door for Ephram; offering his hand, and then leading his husband inside.  
  
Greeting the Maître d’, Freddie gave his name with a smile, and immediately they were swept off to their table; the staff eager to show why they were considered the best, and to reap the financial rewards of their efforts.  
  
It was a seamless, easy transition from one room to the next, and once they were seated, Freddie accepted the Wine List, glanced at it quickly, and ordered a bottle of Krug Clos d’Ambonnay 1995, to be followed by a bottle of whatever the sommelier thought would best compliment the Tasting Menu before sending their attentive servers on their way again, all smiles and courteous charm. And once he and Ephram were on their own - relatively speaking, of course; sat next to one another in EMP’s luxurious and elegant dining room with a large crowd of New York elite - he turned his gaze back to his witch, settling a warm hand possessively on his sweetheart’s thigh.  
  
“From what I’ve read,” he said, “-this place is meant to be one of the single greatest dining experiences in the world, so they’ve got rather a lot to live up to…”  
  
Freddie grinned, eyes sparkling as his fingers teasingly massaged Ephram’s leg. “But if they’re rubbish, I’ve also heard rather good things about New York’s pizza, so we shouldn’t go hungry regardless.”  
  
It wasn’t as if the two of them were reticent about physically touching each other no matter where they were, but it seemed to Ephram that Freddie was doing a _really_ good job at having a hand on him at all times. Possessive and performative about it, not even bothering with decorum in front of the car driver – whose gaze locked with Ephram’s in the mirror when the witch gave a soft gasp at Freddie’s hand between his legs. Between that warm hand, Freddie’s posh accent promising such dirty pleasures, and the driver knowing exactly what they’d be doing later, Ephram was having a hard time himself from getting too aroused.  
  
“Impossible creature,” Ephram murmured. “Gonna be even more impossible when we’re sat down gorging on, what…” He searched his brain for epicurean delights he’d heard of, seen on cooking shows. “On escargots and that elite Japanese cow and gold foil and abalone baloney, and that one 1984 wine that everybody in tv shows mentions to be dramatic, Chateau something. But then they’s all Chateau something, hey?”  
  
However, Freddie was mysterious about where they were headed and what sort of food it would be, and overall it didn’t matter much because Ephram wouldn’t have been able to imagine dishes like sea urchin custard or cucumber snow. The only thing established was that he’d eat whatever Freddie wanted him to put in his mouth; they both had found the experience so desperately sensual when Freddie had taken Ephram to eat at the Danforth and ordered up every delicacy his lover’d never had, that it was clearly on their minds again now.  
  
The name Eleven Madison Park didn’t mean anything to Ephram, but that didn’t stop him from being duly impressed, his eyes widening. “Holy Christ,” he said in a growly whisper to Freddie, “look at this place! Look at that park! Did you have to blackmail somebody to get us reservations here?” As Ephram’s question was completely delighted, he obviously was too elated to give a damn if Freddie had indeed resorted to restaurant trickery.  
  
“Oh, honey,” Ephram said once they were seated, Freddie’s hand heavy and so present on his thigh, “they could serve me fried possum on a hubcap and I’d be thrilled.” He settled his own hand behind Freddie’s neck, thumb brushing idly up into the shorter, sharper hairs there. “I’m glad we can do this sort of thing,” Ephram said, more heartfelt. “That you get to stretch your wings and throw your glitter in the big cities now and again. Because for a while there, Freddie, I felt pretty bad for caging you up in my small town life.  
  
“And I know you’re gonna say that you chose to stay because you love me, and I know that’s true, but this is you too.” Ephram lifted his nose, making a vague circle in the air with the tip. “All this glitz and class and decadence. I would never want you to give it up forever.”  
  
A sparkle chased the earnestness from Ephram’s eyes as he stroked his thumb behind Freddie’s pointed ear, saying, “I reap the rewards too, anyhow, ain’t that true?” as one of the servers returned with the champagne and deftly set about opening and serving it. Ephram took his hand back, giving the pad of his thumb a quick, biting suck to steal the taste of Freddie from his fingerprint, and murmured with pure happiness, “…never gonna get tired of champagne, now that you got me a ken for it.”  
  
“Château Mouton Rothschild, love,” Freddie said with a smile. “That’s usually the one they mean if they’re talking about an ‘84. Though,” he grinned, “-as you’ve said, a fair number of the best ones are all from some sort of chateau.”  
  
“I actually took a Château Margaux to Ciara as a bit of housewarming gift not long ago; and that bottle that you and I polished off in the bath the other evening was a Château Lafite Rothschild - all of which are distinct from one another in a number of fussy little ways, if you happen to be snobby about wine like I am. Otherwise,” he chuckled, “- and more importantly - they’re all just bloody good reds.”  
  
“And anyway,” he went on, teasing and leaning in a bit to nose gently at Ephram’s cheek, “-you like me impossible.” Freddie’s voice rumbled softly in his chest, his eyes gleaming wickedly as he murmured,“You like it when I’m spoilt and scandalous…”  
  
Ephram’s reaction to the restaurant, however, was so sparklingly exuberant that the fairy was temporarily distracted from his naughtier impulses, and he laughed, shaking his head as they got out of the car. “No blackmail, no, love. Just a little persuasive negotiation.”  
  
And once they were settled, champagne on the way, hands wandering over each other indulgently, Freddie’s smile grew softer as Ephram expressed his happiness that they’d begun to take these sort of trips together; to venture further into the life that Freddie had led prior to coming to Soapberry Springs. Touched when his husband mentioned his former worry that he might have locked the fairy into a smaller sort of existence.  
  
“Well, first off, I’m going to say that because it’s true,” Freddie replied, “- I _do_ love you, and that is why I stay. I can’t be without you. Full stop. But,” he went on, “-I’m glad we’re doing these things now too, darling. Because you’re right - I’ve missed it.” He smiled wide, eyes only for Ephram, “And it’s infinitely better than it ever was before to have you beside me as a part of it all.”  
  
“I think…” the fairy went on, “-that part of the reason I gave it up for so long was not knowing how to balance things. Because I’ve wanted to do these things with you since the beginning, sweetheart - I mean, god knows I rattled on about it enough. But when it was the three of us, it was just-” Freddie shrugged rather matter-of-factly, knowing that things coming to an end with Ruby had been right for everyone, and having long since let go of any sort of sadness about it. “Ruby was just _so_ resistant to my spending any sort of money - so uncomfortable with it, yeah? - that, to me, that made it all seem a bit impossible. I couldn’t just whisk you off like I wanted to and leave her behind, but she went on at every opportunity about simple pleasures, needless expense, and happily living on the street in cardboard boxes…”  
  
He shrugged again, not upset by his own failings to speak up in this regard anymore, just simply aware of them. “But it was stupid of me to make concessions that hadn’t been asked for,” he said. “And it’s not a mistake I’ll repeat.”  
  
Freddie smiled at Ephram cheekily. “I’ll just dig my heels in and throw tantrums when I need to instead.”  
  
A small shiver of contentment and warm desire traveled down the fairy’s spine and through the joints of his folded wings as his husband rubbed at his ear, and he grinned. “Honestly, love, you have no idea how good it feels to really be able to spoil you _properly_ now….”  
  
And then their champagne arrived, poured gracefully in their periphery - and as the server took his leave again, Freddie watched Ephram drink with hungry smiling eyes, murmuring, “Good. Because I’ll bathe you in it, if you like, darling. Don’t think for a second that I won’t…” as the first bites of their food began to turn up.  
  
First, two small black and white savory biscuits with an apple-cheddar filling were set down in front of them, and then an appetizer of king-trumpet mushrooms cooked in seaweed and dehydrated, with a mushroom purée and pine nuts; similar to a mushroom carpaccio - both of which Freddie fed to Ephram with his fingers, uncaring what anyone else nearby might think about it.  
  
Uncaring about anything at all, beyond the pleasure of the man at his side.  
  
“Bloody good reds,” Ephram repeated, the vowels round and robust. “All them Chateaux. That one in the bathtub tasted real good off your skin … so long as I could avoid the soap.” He offered no rebuttals to Freddie’s reminding him that he enjoyed it when his fairy acted every bit the rakish dilettante – it was true, after all – and instead settled with Freddie into the quieter mood once they were at the table.  
  
“Reckon if you was to move to a city,” Ephram said, eyes clear and with no falter in his voice, “I’d go with you. It’s the same on my side, Freddie. Wouldn’t be worth staying in the Springs – staying _anywhere_ – if I couldn’t have you with me.”  
  
To hear, though, that Freddie was finding a greater fulfillment in these fancified escapades now that he had Ephram to introduce it to? That made Ephram wriggle in his seat, unable to keep still at the gratification of making something so intrinsic to his husband even better (and also the puff of pride that he’d been the one to help that come about). He stilled when Freddie started talking about their relationship with Ruby, in a more even and contemplative way than Ephram had seen before; things had been so tense, so fraught between Freddie and Ruby that their emotions were like blood in a bruise – too close to the surface, ugly and messy and easy to hurt. It was a relief to see what a little time and distance had provided, and Ephram hoped to himself that Ruby would get there too someday.  
  
“I don’t reckon Ruby ever much had a chance to figure out how she regarded money. Or much else in her life, come to think about it.” Since she’d gone directly from protected apple of her father’s eye to the house of a man who liked to use his fists, and her father’s eyes suddenly shut. But that was something aside from this and Ephram didn’t want to dwell on speculating about Ruby, who probably wouldn’t appreciate that much anyhow. “Cardboard boxes are only comfortable if you got plenty of newspaper to bed down in,” he said instead, tone doleful with the weight of hardship, “and rocks to keep it from gettin’ blown away, and if you’s real lucky it’s that waxed cardboard so’s the wet don’t get in.”  
  
Ephram took a languid sip of champagne before finishing with a flushed, self-contented giggle, “…I mean, we only camped out in em when we was kids and thought it was cool, but that’s how I remember em being.” He would have considered it somewhat cruel to make Freddie think that there’d ever been a point where Ephram was driven to sleep in a cardboard box, except that Freddie had a way that Ephram envied of making his own miserable past into a wry joke. He didn't envy it _entirely_ , since it meant Freddie emotionally repressed a lot, but maybe meeting somewhere in the middle was healthy for them both.  
  
“I’m glad you ain’t gonna invent concessions,” Ephram said, nodding. “You know I don’t need em. And if I ever want one, I’ll ask. But for now, I’m happy with focusing on this notion you got of spoiling me plum rotten.” He helped himself to more champagne so he wouldn’t have to deal with the wait staff (his confidence wasn’t that high yet), but watched the plates being set down with avid hunger. Freddie explained properly what the dishes were, and when he picked up one of those biscuits and held it up for Ephram, sure and expectant that his witch would obediently eat what he was fed, Ephram had to grab Freddie’s knee to keep himself from sliding under the table and opening his mouth there as well.  
  
But instead, he accepted morsels from Freddie’s fingers; neatly, for the biscuit and cheese, and then with a slick suck to pull the mushroom umami all the way in. “Crackers and cheese and fried mushrooms,” Ephram murmured, laughing in a soft huff of breath. “Only a million times richer. It’s like me ‘n you, darlin’.”  
  
He leaned in close and in the same murmur, said, “I want you to hand-feed me all of it. Like I’m your fuckin’ purebred best in show pet. And when we get back to the hotel, whenever that is, you can wrap your belt around my throat for a leash and show me what a good boy I been.”  
  
Teasing each other to distraction had always been a staple of Freddie and Ephram’s relationship, but doing it in swanky establishments was, in Ephram’s view, taking it to a whole ‘nother stratosphere. He caught the glances from a few of the tables, and perversely it just made him want to climb into Freddie’s lap and ride him till they both came in their tailored trousers.  
  
That Ephram would leave the town that he loved so much, the home and the career that he’d made for himself, to follow Freddie across the world to wherever happened to take the fairy’s fancy, simply because he wouldn’t be able to tolerate the alternative, made Freddie bite his lip softly to keep himself from doing something unbearably soppy - like burst into tears or kiss Ephram breathless. But still, he couldn’t keep from reaching up to stroke his husband’s silky cheek with the backs of his knuckles, giving him a smile. “Maybe one day,” he murmured, “Once you’ve retired, or decided you want a change, maybe then we’ll give some serious thought to Dubai, or Rome, or Buenos Aires… but until then, I’m perfectly happy where I am, love.”  
  
Freddie leaned in and brushed his smile across Ephram’s lips as his witch shifted slightly in his seat; the fairy enjoying the little flare of pride in his husband’s eyes, and proud, in turn, that he’d put it there. “These little escapes of ours more than keep me satisfied - knowing that the outside world is still where I left it, and that it’s still worth presenting to you.”  
  
He listened quietly as Ephram gave his impressions of what the situation had been with Ruby, nodding along - that his darling understood their ex-wife far better than Freddie ever had, or could, was a given - and then he let the subject drop without another comment. Because all of that was _then_ \- over and done with, and a part of the past - and this was _now_.  
  
And the _here and now_ \- he and Ephram together, in this city, at this table, with a wonderful weekend stretching out before them - was all that Freddie wanted to lavish his attentions on.  
  
There was a moment shortly thereafter, as Ephram described the relative merits and necessities of cardboard box survival, where the fairy felt his heart sink, wondering why he’d never heard tell of Ephram’s having needed to take refuge that way before - but then his witch let out an adorable little giggle, explaining where this wealth of information had come from, and Freddie smirked, scolding him teasingly, “Oi - behave yourself, smartarse. Only good boys get dessert.” He moved a hand back onto Ephram’s thigh, and smoothed it confidently up high enough to be considered definitively inappropriate. “And I don’t think you want to be made to go without, do you, sweetheart?”  
  
He gave his husband a squeeze, fingertips just brushing against where Ephram’s cock was snugged up against the fabric of his trousers, then took his hand back again. “And I’m glad you’ll ask for concessions if you need them,” he said, going back to his own champagne, and grinning over the rim of the glass. “But I’m even gladder you’re so looking forward to being indulged and catered to.”  
  
“You haven’t been the centre of attention nearly often enough in your life, my darling,” the fairy said, “-but you’ve got all of mine, and I want you to enjoy it, yeah? I want you to let yourself revel in it.”  
  
The tight grip on his knee when he held out the first morsel of food made Freddie smile, but it was the wet warmth of Ephram’s mouth on his fingers as he took in the mushroom that brought a small groan of desire from the back of the fairy’s throat. And when Ephram told him that he wanted to be hand-fed everything he ate tonight - to be made Freddie’s pet - murmuring his suggestions for their eventual return to the Baccarat, Freddie didn’t even bother with subtlety; he just boldly adjusted his thickening cock in his trousers, eyes locked on Ephram’s, and picked up the second mushroom, taking a bite himself and feeding the rest to his lover.  
  
That they were attracting surreptitious glances from neighbouring tables, the erotic charge between them drawing fascinated sneaking envy from some of the other patrons, didn’t bother Freddie in the slightest. On the contrary; he saw the effect it was having on Ephram, and hoped for more. Hoped it would push the envelope of his sweetheart’s self-control, of the palpable want that radiated between them; the taste of that craving for each other sweeter to Freddie than the champagne that lingered on his tongue.  
  
And when the next course arrived, this one communal - a smoked-sturgeon cheesecake with quenelle of caviar and a Hollandaise sauce, presented on a gueridon - the fairy waved off the servers politely, plating a slice for Ephram himself as he explained what it was. “The caviar won’t be quite the quality that I buy for us at home,” he murmured with a smirk, “-but we’ll try our best not to hold that against the chef…”  
  
Collecting a forkful, he held it out for Ephram to try. “Tell me what you think, love,” he said softly, “Describe it for me.”  
  
“Yeah,” Ephram drawled wryly, “out here might be the same to you, but with the company I’m keepin’ now, it’s a whole entire new world for me.” He touched and adjusted the Cartier bird ring on his finger, setting it back where it should be and holding his hand against the tablecloth so the jewels caught the light. “Having a sugar daddy sure beats the alternative,” Ephram declared grandly. “I’d highly recommend it to anybody. But they’re gonna have to find their own … especially when mine’s gonna be booked for decades, Dubai and Rome and Buenos Aires.”  
  
Out here Ephram was nothing, East Kentucky trash and a felon to boot with none of the dignity and respect he’d earned in being the hard-working sheriff back in the Springs. But with Freddie next to him, Ephram didn’t feel that sting as keenly as he’d imagined he might. With Freddie looking at him the way he was, those gemstone blue eyes sparkling with possessive enchantment, it would take actual conscious rejection of the joy he felt in order to wallow. And Ephram had no time or want for wallowing.  
  
He gulped out a mumbled, insincere 'sorry’ as Freddie scolded him, unable to keep from grinning despite himself just as much as he was unable to keep from trying to chase the pressure of his husband’s lightly brushing fingers. “Aw, Freddie,” Ephram said, honey dripping from his wheedling tone, “Freddie, now you wouldn’t do that to me, would you? Make me go without just for one lil ol’ joke? I’ll be good as a goose from now on, promise.”  
  
Despite it not being a new sentiment of his that Freddie expressed in believing that Ephram deserved to be paid attention to and fussed over, it still made Ephram feel like he’d been pinned in place like a butterfly. Not in a bad way; but when somebody worked away with patience and care at one of the welded-shut latches inside him, getting it open and nurturing Ephram’s long-abandoned hope of really meaning something to somebody, there was a certain kind of ache that went along with the happiness. So Ephram only nodded, glad that the trolley arrived to keep him from dwelling on the miracle of his fairy right there and then.  
  
“Hard to beat caviar that comes from fish who’s friends with the merm fishmongers,” Ephram agreed. “Well, it sounds like a mighty peculiar thing to make, but I’ll tell you what it tastes like to me.” He accepted the forkful gently, chewing for a moment, getting a feel for the textures and flavours. “The caviar’s all pop-pop-pop,” Ephram reported, “salty lil bubbles in the white sauce, nice. Keeps it exciting.” Ephram lifted his chin and moved his head forward slightly to prompt Freddie to feed him another bite, and after this one he gave a blissful moan and thumped back in the banquette. “Freddie,” he said, eyebrows up. “What! It’s fish cheesecake, how does fish cheesecake taste so good? Oh, man.” Sitting back up again, Ephram gushed, “It’s – I mean the first bite was kinda weird, not gonna lie, but now – it’s all smoky and that fish taste is real punchy but in the cheese it gits all silky … Lord, that’s good stuff. So far I ain’t hankering for a slice of pizza.” The possibility of Ephram turning up his nose at any of the food was almost nonexistent, but still – after the surprise of the cheesecake, he was impatiently awaiting the rest. “Fuck, I love you so much,” he yipped, nuzzling against Freddie’s shoulder for a moment.  
  
“I might do,” Freddie threatened, though his eyes sparkled playfully. “Maybe I’m in the mood to teach lessons tonight; put my sugar baby in his place…”  
  
He dropped his voice and shifted slightly closer to Ephram, purring into his ear, “Do you think that these people are imagining what that place is right now? You see them, yeah? All the ones so studiously _not_ looking at us… do you think they’re trying to picture it? All the things I might do to you later? The things I might _make_ you do? Wondering if _everything_ I put in your mouth makes you moan…” Freddie smiled as he moved back again, returning his attention to the food as though everything he’d said were perfectly innocent. He picked up Ephram’s fork to carry on feeding him, winking, “Open wide, sweetheart…”  
  
But he couldn’t keep from beaming as he watched his husband eat; Ephram considering the flavours of the food and adjusting to the relative foreignness of the dish, doing what Freddie had asked and describing it before letting loose exactly the sort of moan that kept turning heads; making Freddie want to cover him in kisses. It was lovely to see him let this soft and pliant side of himself out to explore and be pampered; and Freddie was so incredibly proud of the courage he knew it had taken for his darling to stride into this restaurant like he belonged in it, to turn away from his long-held and steadfast belief that he wasn’t fit to consider himself anything more than worthless.  
  
“I’m glad you’re enjoying it, love,” the fairy murmured fondly, taking a bite himself and making a soft noise of appreciation. “It really _is_ rather good, isn’t it? So good, in fact,” he laughed, “-that if you didn’t look so absolutely wonderful eating it, I might almost feel a bit sorry for poaching this table…:  
  
Freddie winked again. “Almost.”  
  
And when Ephram cuddled into him, nuzzling at his shoulder and proclaiming his love in an excited little burst of happiness, Freddie couldn’t resist the urge to grin, his gaze warm and possessive. “I love you too, darling. I honestly don’t know how I lived without you as long as I did.”  
  
The next thing to arrive was lobster with a potato and chanterelle tart - the last of their appetizers - for which Freddie abandoned the fork again in favour of feeding his husband by hand; and by the time the sommelier’s choice of wine was delivered along with their main courses - honey and lavender glazed duck for the both of them; the chef’s speciality - Freddie wasn’t entirely sure how he was going to make it through both the cheese course and dessert without taking the sort of liberty with his witch that even an _obscene_ amount of money applied in gratuity might not be able to excuse.  
  
Pouring them both a glass of wine - he’d shooed the servers away politely, not wanting to share Ephram’s attention, or to make his poor sweetheart feel even remotely intimidated - Freddie collected a bite of the truly incredible duck and fed it to Ephram, watching with a proprietary sort of thrill as he savoured it, smiling as he asked, “So is there anything particular you want to do, or see, whilst we’re here, sweetheart? Because I’ve got all sorts of plans, but I don’t want to leave anything out that you’ve got your heart set on.”  
  
Unable to keep a flush of abject happiness from his cheeks, the fairy laughed lightly at himself. “I’m just a bit excited to be here, is all,” he admitted, “- because I’ve never _had_ this before. I’ve never been somewhere new and had someone I love to share it with - outside of Ollie, obviously, and that’s not the same thing.”  
  
“And every time I look at you, sat there, being gorgeous, I’m just a bit taken aback by lucky I am - and by how hard it is to keep my hands off you long enough to accomplish anything.”  
  
“It’s hard for me too,” Ephram confessed in response to Freddie’s admission of wanting them to get more physical than they were being. “I feel like I’m about to jump clean out my skin because all’s I can think of is your hands all over me. Where they belong.” The flush of exhilaration, rich food and wine, and arousal deepened the pink that was already warming over Ephram’s nose and cheeks, and he licked sticky honey from his lips and tried to corral himself. “You’d think we was a couple'a horny teenagers,” he grumbled in an undertone to Freddie. “Hardly able to keep our goddamn pants on.”  
  
It wasn’t actual disgruntlement, though, and Ephram considered what he’d always fancied doing in New York should he ever find himself there. “I wanna go to one'a them famous delis,” he came up with finally, “and see Strawberry Fields. Those are still things, right? Not obsolete like the Hippodrome or Floradora Girls or nothin.” Reaching for another piece of the marvelous, unctuous duck, Ephram said, “Apart from that I’m yours to do with as you please. Which I’m sure any of the folks lookin’ at us can tell within the inside of a minute, especially with how you’re lookin’ at me like I’m included on the menu.”  
  
The pleasure in Ephram’s voice on this point was impossible to miss, even if he’d tried to play it cool. Not being familiar with how table service worked, he didn’t realize that Freddie had been looking out for his comfort by doing the serving himself; but that didn’t matter, really, because Freddie had known it and taken action. It was that sort of thing that made Ephram love his husband so very much, and cherish the way that Freddie put action to his promises that he wanted to make Ephram’s life as happy and bright as it had once been distressing and burdensome.  
  
And that, right there, was the crux of the matter. Freddie made promises to keep Ephram safe, to love him and help him, to ease his troubles when possible, to notice when Ephram was struggling and intervene without being asked to; he didn’t say anything that he wasn’t fully prepared to follow up on. Out of pure love and believing that Ephram deserved his time and kindness.  
  
“So what’s going on here with this food, anyhow?” Ephram asked, to dislodge the choked-up knot in his chest. “I didn’t even see you look at a menu other'n the wine one. Did you call ahead or something to get em to fix it all up?” In Ephram’s view this was entirely within the realm of possibility. Freddie in the Outworld seemed to still be as magical as ever.

“Those are absolutely still things, darling,” Freddie confirmed with an indulgent smile, “-and I’ll make sure that we do the both of them before we fly home Sunday evening.”  
  
“But I refuse to stop looking at you as though you’re on the menu,” he teased. “Firstly, because you _are_ as far as I’m concerned, and I was invited to gorge myself; and secondly, because I don’t think I could stop if I tried.”  
  
“That’s the best part of teenage lust, after all,” he went on, “-no matter how hard you try, you can never really slake it.” Freddie flashed Ephram a wicked grin, telling him, “Though I _do_ intend to put you through your paces trying…” before taking a bite of his meal.  
  
When his husband asked after the food however, wondering when Freddie had managed to make his choices, the fairy’s smile softened as chewed, shaking his head slightly before swallowing. “That’s because I didn’t, love,” he explained. “I didn’t need to. Because this place offers a tasting menu, or a menu dégustation - whatever you’d like to call it. They’re quite trendy now, really - small portions of several dishes over multiple courses which meant to showcase the artistry of the chef - so that’s what I ordered.” He grinned again. “Only the best for my darling, yeah?”

Ephram was just finishing his wine, concentrating on the taste of it, when a man approached the table. Not one of the waitstaff: he was a dapper older gentleman, maybe a smidge taller than Freddie, of indeterminate origin. “Apologies for interrupting your meal,” he said politely, inclining his head at Ephram before addressing Freddie again in his likewise indeterminate accent, “but I recognized young Larcombe here and couldn’t pass by without saying hello. It’s been a long time, hasn’t it? I recall you having a much smaller frame during the Villa Carlotta affair.”  
  
The man’s smile shifted faintly from social formality to something more sly. “Your physical attributes being of _much_ importance then, naturally.”  
  
Ephram was munching a sliver of glazed duck skin as he watched this exchange, alert but not interrupting. His husband knew how to handle his own business – and if anything started to go south, well, Ephram wasn’t above swinging fists or champagne bottles.  
  
As caught up in Ephram as he was, Freddie didn’t notice their table had been approached until the man in question was already upon them - a nearly unforgivable lack of observance on his part, were he still living his old life; sloppy and amateurish - but he knew their visitor as soon as he laid eyes on him. And Freddie smiled warmly though he felt no pleasure at seeing him, laying his napkin on the table and rising to shake the man’s hand.  
  
“Gian,” he said, “-you’re looking well.”  
  
They’d met over twenty years ago, in the brief window of time that had existed between Freddie’s leaving Antwerp and his arrival in Budapest, when the fairy had begun to make his transition from prostitute to thief; his con-artistry still in its infancy.  
  
He’d abandoned ’t schipperskwartier for greener pastures, having begun to make as much money exploiting the affections and attentions of his punters as he did on their cocks - a practice that was infinitely less messy, less physically tiring, and decidedly more engaging mentally - looking forward to the idea of moving on. Of reclaiming the luxury he was missing so badly, and of fucking on his own terms again. And with that in mind, he and Ollie had taken their savings and headed for Italy, bound for beautiful villas and marks with deep pockets.  
  
The rest of the plan, however, had still been a little nebulous - and had remained about two-thirds prostitution, though Freddie wouldn’t have called it that at the time.  
  
The point, then, was that it was a step in the right direction. A change of fortune, and a seizure of control on certain levels - and at just gone seventeen, it had felt like a coup to go from a brothel in Antwerp to insinuating himself into lavish parties on Lake Como, filling his pockets with shiny baubles even as he worked at making himself the shiniest bauble in the room.  
  
And if both sorts of evenings usually ended the same way, well… that was beside the point. He’d lacked direction then, beyond the desire to wriggle back into the lap of luxury - and sex had simply been his best and sharpest tool; the one he’d handled most deftly outside of his dust.  
  
Villa Carlotta, though- that had lit a spark.  
  
The evening itself had been just another bacchanalian soirée, thrown by a man who had all but owned the entirety of the Italian media (Freddie had charmed his way into the beds of some very wealthy and influential people by then, achieving an invitation through his newfound reputation as the party favour of the moment, the hottest new toy on the market) - so it was the location that had been the appeal. The chance to make off with something wonderful - something genuinely impressive and gorgeous, that Freddie could make his own - that had made the service he was expected to provide worth the bother.  
  
The fairy had been outclassed that night as a thief though; overwhelmed by the scope of his desire and the limitations of his skills at the time. But he hadn’t left empty handed; managing, just before dawn - as the rich and powerful swaggered off home, sated and self-satisfied, too caught up in their own glory to truly take in what Villa Carlotta had surrounded them with - to liberate a single one of Giovanni Liberotti’s cameos.  
  
Something to inspire him to do better. To be better.  
  
The ghost of a smirk tugged at Freddie’s lips as he remembered leaving that cameo in a coat-check tip jar in Paris less than three years later, having helped himself to a piece of Francois Pinault’s collection - but he schooled it away before it had the opportunity to become anything more, his hand still held by the interloper in front of him.  
  
Gian Leutzinger, his name was - Swiss by birth, but Italian by affectation; which had resulted in an accent that sometimes seemed to be a bit at war with itself when he spoke - and what Freddie remembered most vividly about him from that evening at Villa Carlotta, (outside of his small prick and enormous ego) was the same sense of sly amusement that was currently on display.  
  
Because Freddie hadn’t been a prostitute that night, not technically - but Leutzinger had made him feel like a whore. An accomplishment he appeared to want to repeat this evening, twenty-plus years later, in front of Ephram.  
  
More fool him.  
  
The fairy smiled again, his grip firm and dry, as he chuckled, “I suppose we’ve both gotten a bit larger with age, hm?” His eyes flickered to the older man’s middle for just a fraction of a second - just long enough to land a jab at Leutzinger’s still obvious vanity - his chin held high, entirely unperturbed by the smug little implications about his past and this old bastard’s familiarity with his body.  
  
“Tell me, Gian - what brings you to New York? Surely not business? I’d have thought you’d be enjoying your retirement by now…”  
  
The only time that Ephram had really seen Freddie work was … well, it was before this fluid quicksilver persona his fairy’d developed, that was for sure, with its contrast of sybaritic promise and physical heft laced together by Freddie’s needle-sharp mind. It was when Freddie had been younger and hungrier, in that red red room where blood didn’t seem real and so screams and struggles went unheeded.  
  
(Ephram had always been glad that was the memory Freddie’d entrusted to him. He’d tucked it away with his own memories of blood and violation, where it settled without a sound and only arose when he was shuffling through those memories to find one that made his cock stiffen in his fist.)  
  
Leutzinger seemed to be in possession of a remembered Freddie who’d already started polishing his craft, but hadn’t yet shaken the dust of the red light districts from his well-heeled boots. A Freddie-in-the-making. It was sort of fascinating, in its way, and Ephram idly dragged his finger through a drop of the honey glaze on one of the plates and nursed it as he watched them intently.  
  
For his part, Leutzinger ignored Ephram completely; his focus was entirely on Freddie, and he gave a careless laugh at the fairy’s implication about his looks and age despite the flash of anger in his eyes. “You know that we never fully retire from anything we enjoy doing,” the man said, attempting to let go of Freddie’s hand but forced to remain in the handshake until Freddie allowed otherwise. “Even if we don’t receive payment for it anymore. Some things you’ll do for pleasure, simply because it’s in your nature to do so.”  
  
The man wasn’t even bothering to be subtle about calling Freddie a born and bred prostitute. Ephram narrowed his eyes, straightening his lounging posture as anger tensed his jaw. Leutzinger spared him a quick side glance before continuing to Freddie, “I’m in New York to attend a private showing of a Li Yuan-chia that he gifted to a streetwalker in Bologna. The poor woman had no idea that she’d been given an invaluable work of art; she kept it out of sentiment because he taught her to make … what was it?” Leutzinger’s voice was crackling with mirthful disdain. “Ah, yes – he taught her to make green beans cooked with black beans, and she claimed she liked it so much she ate it every week of her life. Until she had an unfortunate road accident, that is.”  
  
Shaking his head and tutting, Leutzinger helped himself to a glass of wine, finally acknowledging Ephram’s presence. “It was a shame, really,” he said, syrupy and oily. “She was from some tiny village in Calabria and managed to make it in Bologna, but still hadn’t gotten the hang of how to cross the street in a big city.”  
  
“I could show you across the street right fuckin’ now,” Ephram offered, showing all his teeth.  
  
An astonished laugh, and Leutzinger turned back to Freddie. “How piquant he is,” the man said, finishing his wine and setting the glass back down. “I didn’t mean to offend, if that’s the issue. You are every iota as breathtaking as you were then, young … Larcombe. Even more toothsome, maybe.”  
  
Even though the man made his skin crawl, that confession made Ephram give a gloating snort as Leutzinger had to admit that Freddie bigger, bulkier, was just as irresistible as when he was a pretty young thing. Leutzinger’s thin lip curled at the sound.  
  
It was petty of him, but Freddie deliberately held Gian’s hand in his grip just a beat longer than necessary, underscoring the shift in the balance of power since their last meeting. Leutzinger no longer possessed anything that Freddie wanted; carried no influence, fortune, or cachet that the fairy did not have, and could not wield himself - and thus, the older man had been rendered obsolete. He had ceased to matter entirely; his sneering disdain and entitled lust no longer something Freddie had to endure for the greater good.  
  
It wasn’t the thinly veiled insult about his being a whore by design that really rankled though - Freddie had no illusions about his prostitution, having never really abandoned it entirely; using sex as a tool of his trade long after he had ceased to be ‘trade’ himself. It was the casual dismissal of Ephram, the refusal to acknowledge the witch’s presence directly (though Freddie assumed a good portion of this jovial denigration was for his husband’s benefit), that set the fairy’s teeth on edge.  
  
Not that he let it show, of course.  
  
Instead, he smiled prettily and politely as Leutzinger rudely helped himself to their wine, saying nothing, though warm love and affection for Ephram swelled in his chest when he noticed the set of his lover’s jaw and the way he’d sat up a bit straighter as Gian had prattled on, smug and smarmy, about unfortunate streetwalkers.  
  
The old man had finally looked Ephram in the eye at this point - only to be met with the danger of a coal-seam fire should the warning signs go unheeded; and Freddie felt his cock thicken and twitch in his trousers as he watched the exchange.  
  
And when Leutzinger, unsure what to make of the certainty in Ephram’s eyes, tittered over him, offering an insincere apology for any offence he may have caused, the fairy glanced at his sweetheart fondly, murmuring, “Oh, he’s very much more than that,” before turning his attention back to the pompous bastard before him, who was now sneering down at Ephram, seemingly offended by the witch’s having dared to laugh at his confession of desire. Offended that Ephram might possess something that he himself couldn’t have.  
  
So Freddie poured just a little additional fuel on the fire. “And when it comes to me, Ezekiel generally rather means what he says - being that he’s my husband.”  
  
The fairy smiled beatifically, though a smirk lurked in his eyes. “So perhaps it’s time you were off, eh, Gian? We are in the middle of our dinner…”  
  
“But it’s lovely to hear that you still find me so attractive,” he added, as Leutzinger’s face purpled slightly. “I do like to think that I’ve only gotten better with age.”  
  
“You’ve become more crass and common with age, that’s for certain.” Leutzinger said icily. “It’s a shame when people like you act above their station. It’s only to your own detriment, Larcombe; as a neophyte thief and experienced whore you had a certain effervescence, but now?” Leutzinger regarded them both with disdain. “Not only keeping such company but marrying it. Acting as though you’d made a name for yourself. It’s laughable.”  
  
With that final jab, Leutzinger gave a slight, stiff bow and sneered, “Enjoy your dinner,” before crisply heading for the door. Ephram looked over at Freddie and patted next to him on the banquette seat, drawling, “Come sit your beautiful common self right down here next to me, darlin’.” He tugged Freddie in closer when his fairy resumed his seat, putting his chin on Freddie’s shoulder and saying, “Ezekiel. That’s a good one. I should remember it for if I ever need to come up with a believable fake name for myself in the future.”  
  
Ephram poured them both more wine, killing the bottle, and took a sip before murmuring, “…he wanted to take you away from me and do all them things to you he didn’t get to do last time you'ns was together. I could smell it on 'im. Like possum stink when they get excited.” Another gloating snort like the first one, and Ephram continued, “That was hot, how you shooed 'im off like that with his tail between his legs.”  
  
He was trying to behave, but Ephram couldn’t resist nosing against the pretty, pointed shell of Freddie’s ear and tracing it with the tip of his tongue. He was hugging Freddie’s arm with both of his own, fingers wrapping long and greedy around each bulge of muscle beneath Freddie’s impeccable suit. “He didn’t put you off our dinner, did he?” Ephram asked hopefully. “Because I’m real invested in finishing, Freddie.” He butted his forehead gently against Freddie’s ear. “And if you feel it’s all ruined because that fucklehead fool tried to come test you, then I swear to God I’m gonna run out here right fuckin’ now, find him, and beat his face in so hard he’s gonna end up lookin’ like a goddamn shredded beet salad.”  
  
Staring at the door as if he could discern where Leutzinger had gone, Ephram licked his teeth in a snarl before turning back to Freddie and almost climbing into his lap. After that little intrusion, he now had utterly no care what people thought of their canoodling, managing to keep it just on the correct side of propriety. “I’m still hungry,” he wheedled, long limbs moving restlessly. And then, almost on the same breath, “–you should steal that painting. Fuck them over on behalf of that poor small town lady in Bologna.”  
  
Freddie watched Leutzinger stalk away, glad to see the back of him, and then did as he was bidden; sitting down again beside Ephram, and letting out a soft happy sound when he was pulled close and cuddled into. “When you’re first starting out,” he smiled, turning his head just enough to rub his cheek against Ephram’s long nose, “-the best aliases always have some sort of association that keeps you remembering them. So it seemed fitting to name you after a prophet.”  
  
“Plus, the ‘E’ would prick up your ears out of familiarity,” he went on, leaning a bit into the warm pleasant solidity of his husband’s body, “You’d anticipate hearing Ephram, and then remember to answer to Ezekiel.”  
  
And Freddie reached for his wine when Ephram topped up his glass, but paused with his fingers on the stem as his witch mused on Leutzinger, and the collection of innuendo and implication that the other man had brought to their table - the want he’d felt perfectly entitled to advertise - smiling when Ephram approved of the way the bilious old goat had been dispatched. “What he didn’t know,” Freddie murmured, “-is that I _can’t_ be taken away from you. It’s an absolute impossibility. And he isn’t even fit to borrow me for an hour with your permission.”  
  
The fairy shivered, letting out a soft hungry groan as his darling began teasing at his ear, turning his head to give Ephram both better access, and a push of encouragement, his lover’s big hands on his bicep making him wish for those hands in other places. “No, sweetheart,” he purred, “-he didn’t put me off our dinner.”  
  
“As much as it excites me to think of you charging after him and wiping that smug expression off his lifted face-” subtly Freddie took one of Ephram’s hands and relocated it out of sight under the table so that his witch could feel the truth of that statement, “-I refuse to let him spoil our evening. You, my love, are the only thing I want to focus on tonight.”  
  
Ephram moved closer, pushing the edges of what had already become behaviour almost too intimate to be fit for public consumption, and Freddie smirked, welcoming it, heat in his eyes. “And besides,” he said, “-you’re still hungry and need to be fed.”  
  
“And what sort of sugar daddy would I be if I didn’t keep your belly full, hm?”  
  
The cheese course, an artisanal selection served with raspberry mustard and candied walnuts, arrived only a few moments later - the server announcing his presence with a low dignified cough, and then disappearing again - and Freddie daubed a finger in the mustard, holding it out for Ephram to lick clean. “This…” he said, “…and then dessert…”  
  
“And then sight-seeing, just like I promised.”  
  
“But you make a good point, love - so maybe I’ll do a little legwork when we get home, and come back for that Li Yuan-chia another time, yeah? After all, we common streetwalkers should stick together when we can…”  
  
Ephram made a creaky, storklike sound of excitement when Freddie explained the rationale behind Ezekiel, all the while the both of them nuzzling and nosing as though they were marking territory (which, considering Leutzinger’s interloping on their evening and attempting to establish some sort of dominance, was entirely possible). “Holy shit,” he said in admiration, the same sort of tone Ephram usually employed when watching Freddie whip up some gourmet dish or give instructions for a bespoke suit or deep-throat his cock. “That’s so smart. Man, there’s so many lil bitty details you gotta keep on recall when it comes to bein’ on the wrong side of the law, I dunno how anybody keeps up with em.” He snickered, dipping his chin to drolly add, “Although it _does_ make it easier for us podunk sheriffs to get you bright clever miscreants to underestimate us.”  
  
Not that Freddie had never underestimated Ephram, and the witch knew it with as much surety as he knew his own name. Even when they’d met and Ephram was still working on the docks, smelling constantly of pitch and rust and salt, more inarticulately mumbly with his thick Appalachian accent and unkempt enough to look like he’d rolled down the mountain the day before, Freddie had seen something of value in him. And in turn, Ephram had been so instantly dazzled, wanting more of this enchanting creature who was everything entirely foreign to him and yet seemed to fit so perfectly in his life, astonished to learn that anybody could have seen Freddie as some disposable bauble. That anybody could be so goddamn stupid.  
  
Nodding as Freddie underlined the relationship between them, the ownership, Ephram allowed himself a smug, entirely content smirk. “I’d only lend you out to fellers what’s fit to get such a gift,” he rumbled, matching Freddie’s lowered voice. “And they’d damn well better be equipped to fuck you right. Only the best for my darlin’.”  
  
The balance of power and dynamic between them shifted yet again, with Freddie putting Ephram’s hand on his unmistakable hardness under the table, in one breath exalting the mental image of Ephram venting his anger through his fists and in the next, reminding Ephram that he was Freddie’s to spoil and care for and keep full. The multiple implications of that last bit got Ephram all melty-feeling, thoughts of Leutzinger draining away entirely as his mind drifted instead to all the ways that Freddie would be keeping him full on this trip. His eyes dilating dark, Ephram neatly licked the mustard from Freddie’s finger with an approving hum, his appetite immediately sharpened again.  
  
“How’d you learn the proper way to behave in fancified restaurants like this, anyhow?” Ephram wondered aloud. He was well aware that the answer might not have pleasant memories associated with it, but he doubted that anything could dampen Freddie’s mood entirely. Not to mention, between the two of them? Any recollection stood the chance of having an element of sadness behind it; they were just good at not allowing that sadness to drown them out.  
  
And when Freddie agreed that stealing the painting might be good fun after all, Ephram said with expansive largesse, “Great. And Ezekiel will be ready whenever you are.” Exceedingly proud of himself, he turned the big open-mouthed golden retriever grin that was Ephram at peak happiness on his husband, only looking away when one of the waitstaff presented himself with another of those discreet coughs and displayed to them another bottle of champagne. “The party at Table 8 wishes the newlyweds all the best,” he said, and then removed himself before anybody could get a word out.  
  
Thoughts of both what it would be like to be loaned out to other men in his husband’s presence - Ephram watching, and giving instruction; dictating how Freddie should be seen to - and the myriad of ways he intended to use his darling’s body for pleasure at every available opportunity in the days to come; wanting to leave a hitch in his sweetheart’s step and the taste of spunk lingering in his mouth, had Freddie a bit feverishly distracted, his cock aching just a little in his trousers. But when Ephram asked how he’d learned to meet the expectations of these sorts of places, the fairy did his best to shift his focus to vaguely more appropriate dinner conversation.  
  
As best he could, any road. The scent of Ephram’s skin, evident just under his cologne, was making it an uphill battle.  
  
“Well, when I was very little,” Freddie said, “- four and five, I suppose - Bahraman began taking me out to a restaurant she was partial to in St. John’s Wood for lunch on Saturdays; labouring under the delusion that my father might eventually want to take me somewhere himself, now that I wasn’t a baby anymore.”  
  
The fairy smirked. “That wasn’t the case, of course - I wasn’t any more interesting to him older, than I had been younger; but eventually, he and I did end up out to dinner fairly regularly, when I was home from school.”  
  
“He didn’t have any choice,” Freddie elaborated with a wry sort of a chuckle. “Legally, he had to feed me, and since we were so often without kitchen staff - only a very few brave souls could bear to work for him for longer than a month or two at a time - restaurants were the only option.”  
  
“And then it was simply observance and repetition.”  
  
Freddie smiled at Ephram, his eyes sparkling as he leaned in to kiss his sweetheart again, soft and open-mouthed and all sorts of indiscreet. “…as well as remembering that the most important rule of etiquette is always that anything can be overlooked if you’re rich enough.”  
  
When Ephram pledged to be a part of whatever scheme Freddie might come up with to liberate that Li Yuan-chia in order to make it a part of their own private collection though, the fairy couldn’t help beaming back at him. “Nothing in the world would make me happier, darling.”  
  
That was fantasy of the highest order, really. His beautiful clever Ephram at his side, helping to execute a complex art con? That was bloody Christmas - and Freddie’s cheeks were already aching from the force of his grin, dazzled by the joyful glow of Ephram’s own smile at the idea of it. It felt like winning a prize.  
  
 _A prize on top of a prize_ , he thought, gazing at his lover - still a bit awestruck, even after all their time together, at the knowledge that this man, and this happiness, _belonged_ to him.  
  
The arrival of the second bottle of champagne was still so unexpectedly lovely though that it loosed a peal of delighted laughter from the fairy’s throat, and he looked around to find Table 8 - gifting them with a beatific smile of thanks when he noticed a middle-aged couple across the restaurant lifting their glasses. “Do you think they’d be touched or jealous,” he wondered out loud to Ephram, grinning as he popped the cork on the new bottle of Krug, and pouring them both a glass, “-if they knew we’d actually been together for years now, and had just never stopped honeymooning?”  
  
And before Ephram could reach for his drink, Freddie pulled him into a deep hungry kiss - the sort of kiss most people would reserve for passionate encounters behind closed doors - only releasing him again once they were both a bit breathless.  
  
“Now what shall we drink to?” he murmured, licking the taste of his man from his lips.  
  
“Marital bliss… or the way I’m going to make you cry for my cock tonight?”  
  
“Four and five, good Lord.” Ephram was both stunned by how young that was, and enchanted at the mental picture of tiny wee little Freddie in a booster seat and his napkin spread on his lap. “When I was that age Edith was trying to get me to stop pissin’ on the side of the barn instead of using her outhouse.” This wasn’t particularly appropriate table conversation, but at least Ephram was talking quietly since the two of them were so close on the banquette and no monocles popped and no pearls were clutched.  
  
“That _is_ a baby, though, four and five,” Ephram murmured, stroking Freddie’s hair, careful to return it to its artfully nonchalant state. “I wish you had baby pictures, with your wings out. If I could go back in time I’d kidnap you.” He snorted, swiping his thumb in the mustard to get another taste of it and saying around the vinegar tang, “…I mean, that sounds a lil messed up all things considered, but really it’s because I want every version of you. Baby you, school you, Amsterdam you, Bvlgari you – I think of em all as mine. Nobody else’s.”  
  
He accepted the warm kiss gladly, hairs raising on his arms at the tide of Freddie’s voice talking about what money could get him and could get overlooked. Ephram had lived in poverty of the worst kind; he wasn’t one to romanticize it. Fond memories that he had were never good _because_ he’d been 'nobly' poor. They just were. Which left him free of the middle-class conflict that Ruby had gone through when Freddie was of a mind to lavishly spend on them; Ephram had never imagined large sums of money, so he didn’t understand them, either. It never occurred to him just how much this restaurant, their hotel, this trip had cost – and even if it had, he would have assumed that was because Freddie _wanted_ it this way.  
  
And Ephram was more than okay with his husband calling the shots.  
  
The arrival of the champagne startled them both out of their mutual reverie, and Freddie elegantly acknowledged the couple who had gifted it while Ephram was still squinting around to figure out which table was #8. Ephram put his fingers on either side of the stem of his glass, sitting against the cold bottom on the table, but before he could drink it or even answer Freddie’s question he was being kissed as if this really were their honeymoon, as if the whole restaurant would break out in music, hearts bursting above them Moulin Rouge-style.  
  
Those bursting lights were still in Ephram’s eyes when Freddie was finished with him, and he could only give a long, quiet sigh, his gaze when he looked at Freddie swallowed up in total, soft surrender. “Both,” Ephram murmured, closing his eyes and pushing his head against Freddie’s for a moment. “You know it’s both. Everything we can get.”  
  
Freddie laughed softly, delighted by Ephram’s recounting of himself at a similar age, and said, “Oh, I was no walk in the park; believe me, love. I babbled on about anything and everything that came into my head, and needed to be scolded about twenty times a day for a variety of infractions - fidgeting and refusing to do as I was told being chief amongst them. I think that’s part of why Bahraman began taking me out in the first place - she knew she had rather a steep mountain to climb, and thought she should get an early start.”  
  
“Though,” the fairy added with a chuckle, “- given that I was a fussy little nightmare even then, keeping me pissing in the appropriate place wasn’t generally a concern. But then, I’d never had to make the choice between the side of a barn and an outhouse either, so who knows?”  
  
As Ephram went on though, his voice sweet and low, petting Freddie gently and expressing his proprietary feelings for all the incarnations of the fairy that had ever been, Freddie just smiled softly, his chest aching in the best way possible, and met his darling’s eyes, holding his gaze as he murmured, “They _are_ yours though, sweetheart. You’re the only one who’s ever wanted them.”  
  
He himself had discarded them all as worthless, long ago.  
  
“As for baby pictures though,” Freddie carried on a moment later with a bit of an apologetic smile, “-I’m afraid someone would have to have cared for those to exist… but I might be able to draw you an approximation, if you like. I mean, obviously I wouldn’t be a baby in it - I haven’t the faintest idea what I looked like that far back; though Ollie might remember… but I could probably manage something older.” Freddie shrugged, feeling a bit silly after the fact for having made the offer. “Not that it really matters anymore, of course.”  
  
“And besides,” he went on, giving Ephram a gentle nudge and a little grin, “-you’re the one whose childhood is worth remembering anyway. Your mum still lights up every time she talks about it. And you do too; in your way,” the fairy added, his eyes fond and warm, “- especially when Edith’s in the mix.”  
  
Once the gifted champagne had arrived and been poured though, and once the kiss that Freddie had captured his husband in had come to a reluctant end, the look in Ephram’s eyes was so much - so beautiful - that Freddie felt his breath catch in his throat. And as they sat there, heads together, close and tight and safe from the world outside, the fairy’s eyes fluttered closed too. Joy melting through him like sugar slowly melting into absinthe, and leaving him with the same feeling of liquid alchemy. The same sense of illumination.  
  
Whatever he had been before, he was golden now.  
  
“I do know it,” Freddie breathed, wanting to pull Ephram into his lap; into his arms. “There aren’t even words for all the everything I want with you, love…”  
  
But their dessert - something called a Soda Pop, a flash frozen concoction unique to the chef, of tangerine foam, lemon meringue, and blood orange cream, that somehow also inexplicably contained Fizz Wiz (or Pop Rocks, as Americans called them) - was delivered precisely at that moment; the waitstaff once again the very pictures of discretion as they made their presence known and then departed again swiftly; and Freddie, in spite of the interruption, could only beam, looking forward, as always, to his darling’s impressions of the odd little dish.  
  
Looking forward to everything all at once.  
  
Ephram looked highly skeptical of Freddie’s claims about his bad childhood behaviour, firmly insisting, “Naw, I don’t believe a word of that. I bet you was sweet as just pie.” Not an unusual view for Ephram to take, given that he was swayed entirely in favour of grown-up Freddie’s infractions. They were all wonderful parts of what made his fairy the man that he was, and in truth Ephram liked people best when they had a little bit of tartness to them, a little sting now and again.  
  
Saints might be inspiring, but they were awful hard to have as friends and lovers.  
  
And then Freddie said one of those things that struck Ephram like thunder to his soul, that nobody had ever wanted – truly _wanted_ him – and not for the first time Ephram cursed the senior Watts in a blue haze of anger. Yes, Freddie occasionally could linger on real or perceived bruises and bumps, poking at them until they were worse than they would have been otherwise … but this wasn’t that. In fact, the more grievous the wound, the less likely Freddie was to nurse it. His eyes were clear, focused blue, not even a tremor in his folded-up wings as he consigned all of his selves to the only person who clamoured for these treasured riches. Ephram knew what his husband looked like when it came to something terrible he’d resigned himself to long ago, so he could keep moving forward and not – well, not give in to the Nothing.  
  
“Nobody else was allowed to want all them versions of you,” Ephram said fiercely. “They was all reserved for me.”  
  
He left that topic there; so long as Freddie’d heard it, moving back to something lighter was better. If you could call the kinds of 'parents’ who didn’t give a fuck enough about their beautiful, sunny fairy baby to even chronicle his first years on the earth something lighter. “I would love it if you drew me a drawing,” Ephram rushed in, not wanting Freddie to feel embarrassed at the idea. “Any age. Although the age you’re at now, I’m pretty familiar with every bit of you.”  
  
They kept apace with each other like that, through a kaleidoscope of shifting moods and tones and subjects, neither of them ever too put off to not follow the other one’s diversion. It was one of the dynamics that came naturally to them, right from the very start, and it had only waxed stronger over the years. So by the time their dessert showed up on the table, the mood slipped gracefully into a more puckish one as Ephram surveyed the peculiar concoction.  
  
“Okay,” he said, fingertips scritching gently against Freddie’s chest, “that looks sorter like an ice cream you’d git at the corner shop when they’s trying to get rid of all the last scrapings of each flavour.” Despite his teasing descriptions of how the food looked (keeping it from getting too snooty, he claimed), each new dish brought on an unmissable bout of anticipation, and Ephram ventured to dig his own spoon into the dessert.  
  
He put it in his mouth without spending any time inspecting the components, bright citrus flavours hitting the pouches of his cheeks before the Pop Rocks started to go off. “Ohmygaw,” Ephram said, laughing, and then pulled Freddie in for a kiss, his cold tongue pressing snapping pieces of candy against the roof of Freddie’s warm mouth.  
  
Freddie just laughed lightly at Ephram’s assertion that he must have been a delightful child, well aware that his darling was inclined to look fondly on even his worst traits and inclinations as a general rule, and didn’t argue - though the ferocity with which Ephram laid claim to all of Freddie’s former selves inspired him to nod, eyes bright with love and the happy willingness to believe that this was true.  
  
“They absolutely were,” he agreed, taking Ephram’s face in his hands and pressing a reasonably chaste kiss to his lips this time before letting him go again. “But,” he went on, still feeling vaguely ridiculous for offering a drawing, not entirely sure what had possessed him to make such a childish overture, unless it was the theme of childhood itself taking a liberty, “-maybe a glamour in the mirror is a slightly better idea, if you want to see me little, yeah?” He smiled. “You’ll just have to remind me sometime, darling; because that’s a wish easily granted.”  
  
Dessert was lingered over; made up of schoolboy laughter, sugary explosions and the sweet tang of citrus kisses - Freddie feeling a distinct fondness for the strange little bit of frozen nonsense by the time the macarons were delivered along with the little box of jellies that EMP bestowed upon them as a thank-you for their custom - and once the cheque had been paid, and lavish gratuities furnished, the fairy stood up and offered Ephram his hand with a smile. “Shall we, darling?” he asked. “The car’s waiting out front, and the city’s still waiting to be seen.”  
  
It was easy to forget that they had the whole city still to explore, given the long and lavish supper that had prefaced it. But once they were out of the restaurant and into the snappy Atlantic breeze outside, Ephram’s desire- and food-addled brain cleared some, leaving him with an even sharper appetite for New York itself.  
  
“No need for Famous Ray’s,” Ephram said cheerfully to the driver, patting his stomach as he sat back next to Freddie. The driver gave a small smile, nodded, and rolled up the partition. Shooting an amused look at Freddie, Ephram said, “Either that feller’s real stringent bout respecting our privacy, or he’s tired of hearing us bang on about pizza.”  
  
Taking Freddie’s arm, Ephram smashed himself against his husband and watched tall buildings go by. “It looks just like in the movies,” he murmured, half to himself. “But real, too. Not like when we went to Austria.” Ephram swung his leg slowly, bumping it against Freddie’s where they sat. “Austria was … so _much_ like the movies it was hard to believe at some points. I couldn’t hardly wrap my head round it.”  
  
A thought occurred to Ephram and he sat up, taking Freddie’s hands in his own. “I thought of this a lil while ago and I decided I needed to but I didn’t remember until now.” He could feel a blossoming warmth chasing off the bit of lingering chill as he squeezed his lover’s hands and said, “What you done with the Stonefruit is incredible. It’s such hard work and you make it look like a piece'a cake. I love seeing you so devoted to making the place up to your standards and making it work, Freddie, you got so much talent and I’m over the goddamn moon that the rest of the town gets to see it too.”  
  
Opting for the better part of valor, Ephram didn’t make any accompanying comments about Iann Cardero. He well knew that it was the balance of both innkeepers’ personalities that made the Stonefruit a success, but Ephram couldn’t really bring himself to bestow any praise on Iann unless it was through extraordinary circumstances.  
  
“Anyhow,” he said. “You always been so supportive of me, when I was running for Sheriff and through my bein’ deputy and now? I’d go nuts if it wasn’t for you. And I should be telling you more often how impressive your achievement with the Stonefruit is.”  
  
“I think after what he saw on the ride over, he’s utterly terrified of what I might say or do next,” Freddie chuckled. “Which,” he added, his eyes bright with satisfaction and mischief, “-he _should_ be; given that I intend to indulge every last one of my impulses where you’re concerned tonight.”  
  
The fairy leaned in and gave Ephram’s earlobe a playful sucking nip. “Christ knows what I might want to do to you back here…”  
  
Shifting slightly to better accommodate his near lapful of husband when Ephram smushed them together, a small but beatific smile on his face as he watched his darling gaze out the windows at the city, Freddie rested his hand on Ephram’s thigh; just stroking gently with his thumb, as his witch mused on the vaguely unreal quality of Vienna this past New Year’s Eve. Not wanting to intrude on Ephram’s reverie, happy to simply hold him close and be the thing that he rested on as the nighttime traffic rushed past.  
  
Which meant that he was a little momentarily taken aback when Ephram suddenly sat up and took his hands, turning to him with an earnest expression on his face. But still, Freddie drank in the praise when it came like a man who hadn’t known he was thirsty until the water had started to flow.  
  
“Thank-you, sweetheart,” he said softly, eyes shining, once Ephram had said his piece. “That means the world to me to hear you say. I mean… I knew it - I _know_ it - but sometimes having it said aloud just…” Freddie smiled again, cheeks flushed with pride, “…it’s just lovely.” He leaned in close and kissed his lover slowly, murmuring “Thank-you” again against his witch’s lips.  
  
The car came to a stop just as he was pulling back again, and Freddie grinned, obviously excited. “Alright, part of me actually toyed with being unbearably cheesy and blindfolding you for this bit,” he admitted, “-but then I thought better of it, deciding I’d rather enjoy your reaction to this place straight from the start.”  
  
“Because this,” he went on, nodding out the window beside him, “-is the Empire State Building, darling - and for the next hour, it’s entirely ours.”  
  
Freddie tapped once on the glass partition so that the driver would open the boot for him, then got out of the car to collect the jar of Ephram’s moonshine he’d brought from home; returning to offer his hand to his witch. “I wasn’t sure which flavour was the best,” he said, holding up the smuggled liquor, “-so you’ll have to forgive me if I didn’t bring the one that you would have chosen, love.”  
  
The fairy smiled again. “I just thought that since New York was new to both of us, and dinner was very much my element, it might be nice to enjoy the view with something that’s very much yours.”  
  
Feeling Freddie’s lips against his earlobe, Freddie’s strongly built body supporting his, Freddie affectionately stroking his thigh, Ephram relaxed completely into this interlude between whatever the next experience was that his darling had cooked up, and the intense sensual feast that had been EMP. In fact, it almost felt like coming down after an orgasm, with them both quieter for their bodies having been sated.  
  
And the look on Freddie’s beautiful face when Ephram poured honeyed praise over him – that little boy look, craving validation and approval, the one that had made him so vulnerable to his abusers – it broke Ephram’s heart at the same time as it filled him to the brim with love. “I need to remind you more often,” Ephram smiled, giving a foxish lick to Freddie’s lips with the tip of his tongue. “Mayhap next time I’ll book a room and express my admiration as a guest. I hear the personal service is pretty goddamn stellar.”  
  
Ephram laughed when the car stopped and Freddie confessed his initial tendency towards the dramatic, nodding and saying, “…you could always blindfold me later if you want, sweetheart.” He was possibly going to say more, something that might make them tumble back into the car and give in to the yearning that had been building all evening, but then Freddie explained and all Ephram could feel was tiny silver bells ringing in his hearing. Because surely he hadn’t heard right.  
  
“The whole Empire State Building?” Ephram repeated hoarsely, almost afraid to get out of the car as Freddie went around to the trunk. “Just for us. The two of us. The Empire _State Building_.”  
  
A lavish supper, Ephram had been prepared for. This … this he most definitely was not.  
  
His heart was hammering with a frothing mix of sureness that he’d somehow be arrested for this, that some security guard would sniff him out as trash with no right to be there; churning with the molten silver of Freddie’s love for him, so deep and proud that he spelled it out with the goddamn _Empire State Building_. And mixed in with both of those things, Ephram’s rejoicing from his very soul that he’d found and loved Freddie, and hadn’t wasted time before letting him know that Ephram wanted his fairy in his life for good.  
  
Especially when Freddie produced a jar of moonshine and explained his reasoning behind it as Ephram tilted his head to the side, sitting with his legs outside of the car and looking up at his husband. “It’s perfect,” Ephram said, not realizing for a moment that Freddie had his hand out. Honestly, he didn’t trust his legs not to buckle if he tried to stand. “Strawberries and cream. Just right for my London feller.”  
  
Finally grasping Freddie’s hand, Ephram left his fairy to exercise most of the muscle in pulling him to his feet, swaying for a moment before melting against Freddie with a soft gasp. “You’re so clever,” he said, barely audible the way they spoke across the same pillow after a particularly intense fuck. “You know exactly right about me, Freddie, I don’t –” Ephram felt himself getting choked up, but didn’t bother to fight it, not right now, “–I din’t think anybody would. But you do. You know all of what I need even when I don’t.”  
  
The moonshine, sweetly pink in the jar, provided just the right amount of grounding that Ephram needed to not be overwhelmed by this unbelievable gesture. Especially with Freddie’s reason for bringing it. “Well,” Ephram said more steadily as he scrubbed the faint wetness from his face and gave a reckless grin, “we don’t wanna waste our hour down here, do we, honey?” He tucked his arm through Freddie’s, the way he’d been doing for this trip, and headed towards the doors. “Take me up and show me what a city looks like.”  
  
Freddie let out a soft hum of happiness as Ephram licked at his lips, breaking into another grin at the idea of putting his husband up as a guest at the inn and having the opportunity to both show off all the little details he loved to fuss over at the Stonefruit, and to lavishly pamper his darling on their home turf for a change. “And you’re a VIP, sweetheart,” he said, his eyes alight, “-so you’d get some very special attention…”  
  
The suggestion that he blindfold Ephram later, however, threw him off his rhythm for a moment; temporarily distracted as he was by a very detailed mental image of his witch on his hands and knees on the bed at the Baccarat, one of Freddie’s silk ties obscuring Ephram’s vision, while the fairy, buried inside him to the hilt, tortured him with tiny little rolls of his hips. But as delicious as the picture was, Freddie forced himself to set it aside for now, wanting very badly to give Ephram a little piece of New York to keep with him. To continue to make good on all his promises to show his lover the world.  
  
“Well,” he said, smiling softly once he’d returned with the moonshine, able to hear the slight strain in Ephram’s voice and hoping to make things seem a bit less overwhelming, “-the good bits, any road. I haven’t the faintest idea what goes on in the rest of the building, but for the time being, the observatory on the 86th floor and the top deck on the 102nd are only for us.”  
  
Then, glad that his choice of jar had been approved of, the fairy pulled his husband to his feet, gathering him in when Ephram pressed close; surprised at the wetness of his lover’s eyes and the thickness of the emotion in his voice, but so incredibly grateful to have put it there that he had to swallow a small lump in his own throat in order to reply. “Knowing you is the greatest joy of my life, love,” Freddie said simply, looking up into Ephram’s eyes. “I’m never more proud of myself as when I can make you smile. When I can see in your eyes that you know exactly how much I love you.”  
  
“I know I can’t make you believe how very much you matter, sweetheart - but I don’t ever want you to waste a moment wondering how much you matter to _me_.”  
  
And when Ephram grinned, surer footed than before, taking his arm, Freddie beamed. “No, we absolutely don’t,” he said, as they headed for the doors. “And believe me, darling, there’s very little I want to do more than to lay this city at your feet…”  
  
The fairy had a quick word with security when they got inside, confirming with a flash of forged identification that he was who he said he was, and they were allowed through to the lifts; Freddie leading Ephram into the first one that arrived, and pressing the button for the 86th floor with a grin. “I don’t know if I have it in me to be alone with you for 86 floors and keep my hands to myself…” he mused.  
  
“So what do you think, love,” Freddie smirked up at his husband with mischief in his eyes, “-should I even bother trying, or just go ahead and give into temptation right away?”  
  
“I never wonder when it comes to you.” Ephram replied, just as plainly and honest as Freddie. “You always make sure I know how you feel about me. And how you ain’t gonna choose nothin’ better over me.”  
  
Once Ephram had pulled himself together and they were headed to the door, he thought back to Freddie’s earlier comment about what floors they specifically would have access to. Screwing up his brow in thought, nose skewing upwards as well, Ephram said, “Hey, yeah – what the heck does go on in the rest’ve the building? Do folks got offices there? Maybe they store stuff. Like um, artifacts they don’t want people to see.” 

He was still trying to understand a building that had floors into the hundreds when the timbre of Freddie’s voice changed, to that low carnal rub that made Ephram shudder as instant desire flooded him with warmth. “Oh, God – yes please, Freddie,” he groaned, bringing their mouths crashing together, too needy to be eloquent in word or motion, reduced to begging in both areas. “Touch me, I need to feel your hands on me, honey, please, I can’t wait no more neither, I want you _so bad_ , Freddie, please....”  
  
The lift had only managed to climb as far as the fifth floor when the fairy had leaned in to make his overture, knowing he’d be unable to deny his persistent throb of want for the duration of their prolonged ride to the top; and when Ephram groaned his assent - his own needy hunger to be touched - Freddie met it with fervour.  
  
Growling into his lover’s mouth as he took control of the kiss, Freddie pushed Ephram back into the corner of the lift, the hand holding the jar of moonshine hooked behind Ephram’s neck while the other groped his darling’s cock possessively through his trousers.  
  
“I could fuck you right here,” he breathed against Ephram’s lips, kissing him again before he could respond. “Turn you around and just _take_ you, yeah? Hard and fast…” Freddie’s deft pickpocket’s fingers opened his husband’s zip and he slid his hand inside to wrap around hot silky flesh; his own aching prick giving a twitch between his legs while the numbers above them ticked higher.  
  
He squeezed Ephram tightly, stroking him with his thumb as best he could in the narrow confines of a pair of tailored trousers, and licked into his sweetheart’s mouth again, biting at his lips. “…is that what you want, love? Tell me.”

Once Freddie shoved him into the corner of the elevator, kissing him and manhandling him like the fairy meant to knock Ephram insensible from overstimulation, that was the only thing that Ephram could focus on. His hips jerked, sliding his cock into the masterful grip of Freddie’s hand as Ephram moaned through his fairy’s proposed debauchery. The floors ticked off above them, carrying them further into the stratosphere and closer to whatever floor they were getting off at – eighty-something? – and Ephram chased Freddie’s lips as his husband pulled away to request an answer.  
  
“Do it,” he said, shaking all over. “I’m yours, you should have me if you want me and Christ, I’m fuckin’ gagging for your cock inside me, please, Freddie.” He took the moonshine bottle from Freddie and rolled it over to the other side of the elevator floor, well out of their way. And then his own long fingers made short work of Freddie’s fly and Ephram dropped soundlessly to his knees, eyes trained on Freddie’s as he sucked sloppily on the fairy’s cock, leaving it sticky and dripping with spit and precum when he surged back to his feet.  
  
“Give it to me hard,” Ephram gasped, lips parting sticky and slutty. “I don’t care if there’s a guard up there on eighty-whatever floor, let 'im see what kind of whore I am for you. Love you so much, Freddie, please, I need you, everything’s been such a dream I just need to feel your cock deep in me to make sure it’s all real. Please, please please.”  
  
Freddie watched with a lust-drunk sort of awe as Ephram sucked him messily, the sweetness of that wet heat making his head swim - and though his intention had only been to continue to drive their anticipation higher, to keep striking sparks on the edge of combustion… the fire had caught, and there was no containing it now. Not until the flashover had passed.  
  
Not until they’d been allowed to _burn_.  
  
So when Ephram got to his feet again, Freddie’s spit-slick cock oozing precum between them, hard and thick and demanding more attention, the fairy groaned as his husband begged to be fucked, past caring about anything else. And he kissed him, hard, his hands roughly divesting Ephram of his trousers, pushing them down until they caught around his knees.  
  
“I love you too,” Freddie breathed, his prick catching against his darling’s as he crowded closer to plunder that cock-swollen mouth again, dragging a gasping grunt of frustrated pleasure from the back of his throat. “Fucking _love_ to hear you begging for it…”  
  
He spun Ephram round, and pulled his witch’s hips back, bending him slightly lower to compensate for their difference in height, growling, “Hands on the wall like a good boy,” before spreading Ephram open to look at him, pink and tight and needy. And, head down, Freddie let a shimmering mouthful of spit drop and splash down the cleft of Ephram’s ass, sliding over his hole to drip down his balls; the fairy’s greedy fingers following, pushing inside just far enough to frustrate, before finally lining himself up and taking his husband with one hard thrust of his hips. Swearing as he pushed home, and not stopping until they were pressed flush, entirely skin-to-skin.  
  
“I’m going to fuck you until I have my fill, and you’re going to _love_ it-” he panted, “-just like the slut that you are, sweetheart. I hope security gets a good long look…”  
  
“…I hope that everyone we meet tonight can smell my spunk on you,” the fairy rubbed his mouth against Ephram’s neck, his hands coming up to hold his witch’s narrow hips, “-as it drips down your thighs and stains your trousers…”  
  
“Or maybe I should plug you and feed it to you later; make you lick it off my fingers…”  
  
Freddie’s grip tightened as he began to move, setting the sort of sharp brutal pace that he knew Ephram wanted - possessive and searing; his breathing already ragged, his whole body thrumming with ravenous driving need…  
  
And then he pushed them both harder.  
  
35, 36, 37…  
  
Ephram hadn’t intended either for them to give in to each other until much later in the night; they’d both been quite valiant, in his estimation, when it came to showing restraint and limiting themselves to sweet-talk and kisses. But this was too much to resist.  
  
Though he’d had plenty of experience in both positions, Ephram marvelled at how differently he felt it when he was the subject of a man’s carnivorous tastes, rather than the one eager for the hunt. His whole body felt hungry and empty and aching, wanting to make sure Freddie never stopped looking at him like that, wanting to give Freddie everything he desired. And then some.  
  
The taste of Freddie’s cock mingled with the taste of his mouth as they kissed, and Ephram’s lips succumbed again and again, stopping only to gasp when Freddie half-undressed him and turned him around. “You got me so wantin’, Freddie, I would beg on my goddamn hands and knees for you to fuckin’ core me out with that beautiful cock.” And it really was, at that; thick and curved, wetness coming easy and slick, the angle perfect for him to fuck Ephram’s throat or his ass or whatever the hell he damn well pleased.  
  
Swallowing, Ephram splayed his hands against the wall of the elevator, giving a soundless gasp when he felt that warm globe of spit fall against his exposed hole. That was all he was getting, that and what he’d managed to wet Freddie’s cock with, and Ephram felt his heartrate tick upwards to outpace the elevator wildly. “More,” he pleaded, pushing back on Freddie’s fingers. But his fairy was holding him in place, and then before Ephram could entreat any more, he was being split open on a single long, conquering thrust as Freddie bottomed out inside him.  
  
“Yeah,” Ephram moaned, “yeah, oh God, honey – I want your cum stitched right up through my belly, I wanna be punch-drunk from cock by the time you’re done with me, I–” He broke off as Freddie started to thrust, jagged and merciless, and bent his head so each slam of Freddie’s hips smushed his arm and head into the corner of the elevator. Mouth slack and open, Ephram pleaded and whined as Freddie used him, every moment of it deliciously debauched and driven by the unstoppable hurtling passion that hadn’t faded between them for a moment since they’d met.  
  
“They’s all gonna know,” Ephram moaned desperately, his own cock tapping angrily at his stomach stiff with arousal and Ephram’s steadfast ignoring of its need. “They gonna be able to take one look when you’re finished with me and know exactly what I’m meant for, Freddie, oh, please – do that to me instead, yeah, make me keep you all inside me, I can handle that, you know how much I can take, Freddie, please....”  
  
Ephram couldn’t stop the begging now if he tried. It tumbled out of him in ribbons, twining up with Freddie’s body and where he had entered Ephram’s, licking a heady sting of humiliation and subservience along Ephram’s skin. It wasn’t that Freddie had never topped him – he’d done it enthusiastically and skillfully, in fact, on plenty of occasions to keep Ephram satisfied – but this was something else. Raw, and a little bit dark, a little bit cruel. It threatened to make Ephram’s viscera seize up from the intensity, the cries that he was hearing himself make now, bordering on sobs.  
  
He just hoped Freddie was as fucking into this as Ephram was. These were Ephram’s reindeer games more than Freddie’s, although his fairy was more than willing to have Ephram put him through his paces and leave him (well, them both) undone and bruised and panting with love afterwards. “Floor,” Ephram managed to gasp out, his pounded-hot insides convulsively clutching at Freddie’s cock as if reluctant to let go. “How much time we got.”  
  
Every sound that Ephram made, every wet-sounding moan and keening threadbare whine of raw submissive hunger, sent a brutish thrill of victorious pride through Freddie, spurring him on to hold tighter, to snap his hips harder, to drive his cock deeper. To show Ephram that there was nothing he could want, or need, or long for, that Freddie wouldn’t move heaven and earth to provide. Nothing he could crave that Freddie wouldn’t do everything in his power to give to him.  
  
Ephram was drawn to the dark in ways that the fairy himself would never be; inclined in certain moments towards pain of all kinds and incarnations - but Freddie would follow him into the shadows whenever he ventured there. Ready and willing to go further than he ever would on his own; than he would ever so much as consider with anyone else.  
  
Together, the dark could be explored, and together they would always find their way home again.  
  
Freddie fucked into his witch with a single-minded fervour, sweating inside the clothes he still wore, chest heaving as he hammered his cock into Ephram in long pounding thrusts, able to feel the molten churning of his orgasm starting in the pit of his stomach and at the base of his spine. But when his darling rasped out a plea to be forced down to the floor - to be ravaged and rawed in what passed for the dirt - the fairy rerouted his attack into something sharp and shallow and concentrated.  
  
“Doors’ll open any minute,” he gritted out breathlessly, “-and I don’t bloody care if they do.”  
  
Pulling out with a frustrated grunt, he spun Ephram around again, hauling him close and kissing him hard before stepping back, jutting cock dripping as he tugged his husband out of the corner. And he manhandled Ephram down, giving his sweetheart’s arse a hard echoing smack before pushing his way back inside with a groan.  
  
“So fucking _dirty_ ,” Freddie breathed, the sound of their joined bodies juicy and obscene; the small space thick with the scent of sex and men and expensive cologne. “My little tart, aren’t you?”  
  
Then, finally wrapping his hand around Ephram’s dick, Freddie began stroking him viciously, keeping time with the pounding rhythm of the fuck. “Come on… cum for me,” he urged, his voice tight and guttural. “Cum for me like you don’t cum for anyone else...."  
  
Ephram wondered vaguely if this was how it had felt for Freddie, when they’d first begun exploring his fairy’s limits and where the word _daddy_ fit into their sex life and how much of Ephram’s burning seam of arousal when it came to hurting his darling during their fucking could be approached. Ephram had been a little hesitant but with Freddie’s encouragement and clear enjoyment of the depraved places that Ephram drove him to, it had been opening up new avenues to them.  
  
And this was one. Because the way that Freddie was fucking him left no doubt as to how much sheer muscle his husband had to make use of, and how much experience he had banked over a lifetime of learning and studying sex, making an art of it.  
  
Ephram was barely aware of how his question could be taken as his having voiced a desire to be tossed to the floor and mounted before Freddie was doing it, moving Ephram around as though the witch weighed no more than a hat rack. “God, yeah,” Ephram groaned once he cottoned on, feeling bruises rise under his clothes in places. They’d be purple and overlaid later, fat bunches of smeared grapes, and as his back hit the floor of the elevator Ephram raised his hips for Freddie to drive into him again. Such an expert impalement, too; Freddie’s cock sank right in with no stutter or stop and Ephram gave a half-mad yowl, gritting his teeth. “ _Your_ dirty lil fuckin’ tart,” he agreed, savouring the feel of his back shuddering along the floor as Freddie bottomed out in his body like a piston. “Ain’t nobody for me but you, Freddie, nobody’s cock what hits me right up inside where I need it most. ”  
  
Ephram’s words trailed away in a soft urgent sound as his dick throbbed in Freddie’s grasp. Each stroke of Freddie’s thick cock stabbed in so deep and hard and perfect, and each stroke of his clever fingers so _masterful_ (Ephram gave a little whine of damp embarrassment when he thought of that particular word, because it made his cock thump hard in his husband’s grip) that Ephram only had time enough to cry out, “–only you, honey, only you!” before he shot his load, body jerking and shaking and convulsing on Freddie’s prick with no move to separate.  
  
Ephram’s long legs - still tangled in his trousers - thrown up over his shoulder, Freddie gritted his teeth as he drove into his husband, crowding close and bending Ephram nearly in half. Relishing each sound that fell from his sweetheart’s lips, each gabbled promise that Ephram belonged to no-one else, that Freddie was the only one who could ever give him what he needed.  
  
Drunk on it. Drunk on _him_. Never wanting to stop - and knowing he couldn’t hold out much longer.  
  
The way that perfect cock throbbed in his hand as Ephram mewled and whined, his witch’s body clutching at him like it couldn’t bear the idea of ever being apart… it was too much. It stole what was left of Freddie’s breath; blotted out everything that wasn’t here and now and Ephram.  
  
And when his darling came - Ephram’s orgasm crashing through him violently, making him clench hard around Freddie’s prick, trembling and shuddering as he made a mess of the both of them - the fairy followed him over the edge; letting out a roar of animal satisfaction as he emptied himself, hips stuttering as the aftershocks of Ephram’s climax milked him dry.  
  
Blood rushing in his ears, heart pounding, desperately completely madly in love.  
  
They were still for a moment, Freddie lightheaded and breathless, panting, as he stared down at his ravished husband, before pressing close to help himself to one more kiss. Murmuring a litany of soft gentle endearments into Ephram’s mouth as he carefully pulled out - though he kept Ephram’s legs pushed up for just a few seconds more, watching as a thick creamy dollop of cum oozed free. He pushed it back in, fingers catching on the red swollen rim of Ephram’s hole, then finally eased his darling’s legs down; tucking himself away, and pulling Ephram’s trousers back up over his arse just in time for the doors to chime open on the 86th floor.  
  
And when they did, a thought suddenly occurred to Freddie from his place on the floor.  
  
“Fucking hell,” he breathed, pulling his witch up into a sitting position, caught somewhere between laughter and mortification, “ _Floor_.”  
  
“You meant what floor were we on, and I threw you on the ground like a caveman and fucked you senseless.” The fairy lifted a hand to Ephram’s face, the two of them still sat in the centre of the lift, and kissed him. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he asked softly.  
  
“Not more than you wanted me to?”  
  
Freddie had never been one to be shy and retiring about his passion, but there was an animalistic edge to him now – from the way he drove in with brutal intent, to the way he bellowed his completion – that Ephram couldn’t get enough of. It felt like the wash of cum filling his belly served to prolong his own orgasm, keeping the heat and feeling of melting arousal stretching past his own cock’s hardness. It felt like if he just let Freddie’s spend soak into his guts, it would fill in and smooth over all of the cracks in Ephram’s psyche when it came to being fucked.  
  
Sweetly dazed, Ephram put his wet fingers alongside Freddie’s face for the kiss, receiving each gentle word into his slack, swollen mouth and moaning softly when Freddie pulled out, leaving him aching and well-used. “Plug me up,” Ephram urged. “Like you said you would.” He let his head fall back as Freddie scooped a double fingerful of cum from Ephram’s pounded-open hole, carefully pressing it back past the softened tissue. “Use your dust, or whatever, just do it like you said. So I’ll have you in me all night.”  
  
When Ephram reminded him of what he’d said, his promise to plug his darling full of cum and feed it to him later, Freddie let out a soft approving rumble from deep in his chest and took Ephram’s trousers down again, pushing his legs up one more time - Ephram’s sweet reddened hole sticky and pliant - and he slipped off one of the rings he was wearing, glamouring it into a mid-sized plug and working it into his husband. Pushing until it settled snugly, and then dressing him again, barely beating the slide of the doors. “There,” the fairy murmured as the 86th floor came into view, “-all mine. Scented and marked.”  
  
The fairy smirked. “All that spunk’ll be your real dessert, hm?”  
  
For a moment, Ephram was worried when Freddie pulled them both up with that exclamation, going alert in case it was necessary. “What is it?” he asked, but then Freddie explained himself (in an _exceedingly_ hot way, as proven by the answering throb in Ephram's cock) and then, solicitously, checked in with his husband to make sure that things were still all right.  
  
“Listen,” Ephram smiled, slow and loving, finding it intensely endearing that Freddie’d only just realized his meaning, “what I got was _miles_ better'n a report on what floor we was on, believe me. You can cavemanhandle me anytime you want, tiger.” Ephram pressed his cheek against Freddie’s hand, turning slightly pink, pupils blown dark.  
  
“You hurt me just right,” he said, picking through the words carefully, and then getting to his feet and pulling Freddie up with him as they finished putting their clothes back into some semblance of order. “I want you to do that kind of thing to me, if you want it too. And more. I can take it.” They stepped off the elevator, and Ephram finished up with, “…I feel like it might be sorter, y'know, cathartic. Since I know you love me.” Ephram kissed the side of Freddie’s head, a slight hitch in his walk as they ventured further. “But I’m just talkin’, you know that. Wouldn’t do neither of us any good if you had to force yourself.”  
  
Once he’d realised his mistake in regard to the floor, checking in with Ephram that he hadn’t done him any harm, Freddie smiled in relief to hear that in fact, he’d done quite the opposite; rubbing a thumb along his darling’s cheekbone and pressing their lips together one more time. “Good,” he murmured.  
  
They got up, Freddie quickly and efficiently straightening and fussing their clothes back to presentability, and headed out into the observatory, the fairy closing his eyes for a moment as Ephram kissed his temple. “I know that you can take it, love,” he said, looking up, eyes full of respect and love, “-I just like to make sure that you want to. I don’t ever want to assume where your feelings are concerned.”  
  
“And I’ve never had to force myself to do anything with you, sweetheart. So if that’s something you want - something that’s good for you - then I’ll give it to you as best I can, yeah?”  
  
Ephram’s slightly stilted gait turned Freddie’s gentle smile a bit more wicked, a certain smug pride dancing in his eyes as he led Ephram outside into the cool night air on the observation deck itself, the city that never sleeps glittering all around them in the dark. “And if you keep walking like that,” he teased, “-reminding me of how gorgeous you look on my cock, you’ll be getting it sooner rather than later.”  
  
Ephram turned bright pink at Freddie’s possessive words, the intimate vulgarity of the idea, the slightly dark pricklings of finding fulfillment in being subservient. That thought was on his mind when Freddie traced a cheekbone and followed it with a kiss, looking at him with such love and such sureness that Ephram knew his mind and body’s own limits when it came to playing rough. “I want to,” he said, softly but decisively. “I’ll always want to, when it comes to me and you. Assuming is safe in this case–” Ephram chuckled breathlessly, bumping against his fairy, “–although I know you probably are still gonna make sure I want it each time. On account of you being you, my sweet considerate man.”  
  
The sight laid out before them once they got outside made Ephram fall silent for a while as he gazed out over the velvety carpet of night, torn in places to allow skyscrapers through, hung with stars of tiny twinkling lights everywhere. “Oh, Freddie,” Ephram said. His voice came out a creaky monotone, but then he wrangled it back into shape and snuggled harder to compensate. “Freddie, heaven above, I dunno how you did all this. How you came up with it, how you made it happen, nothin’. But the fact that you did, it’s … it’s like being wooed by a millionaire.” A clunky simile to be sure, but Ephram considered it a forgivable one when you considered the magnitude of what and where they currently were.  
  
Add to that the unmistakable feeling of having a gut full of thick semen and a sturdy plug to keep it there, like he was nothing more than a mobile, lanky sex toy, and Ephram was practically glowing with happiness. “Givin’ it to me ‘as best you can’ is gonna be just perfect,” he assured Freddie, trailing his fingers down his husband’s side, tipping his face against Freddie’s temple so he could feel his eyelashes stutter along that smooth, fragrant skin. “I’m tired of hauling around these fucked-up things what happened to me. I need you to help scrape off all the marks them other men left on me and make sure yours are the only ones on my body.”  
  
Despite the rather somber subject, Ephram felt truly peaceful and lucky, standing where he was with and thanks to the magnificent man he'd have for the rest of his life. When he continued talking, the words matched Freddie’s own teasing colour, coming to the surface for air. “Ain’t nobody to blame for the hitch in my saddle other'n your own self, Mister Man,” he scolded. “But you can use me to warm your cock any ol’ time you feel like it. I’m a generous person, always thinkin’ of those in need.”  
  
When Ephram softly assured him that he would always want Freddie to treat him in whatever way he saw fit - that he would welcome rough treatment at Freddie’s hands the same way that Freddie would trust it from Ephram’s - the fairy smiled again, laughing lightly when was teased about the endless stream of check-ins and assurances that he was sure to perpetrate in the future. “I will do, yeah,” he said, his voice low and warm, reaching up to push Ephram’s hair back from his eyes. “Because you deserve to be taken care of, my love. In this, and in everything else.”  
  
“And that’s what I intend to do. For as long as you’ll have me.”  
  
Freddie pushed up to kiss Ephram’s lips again. “I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to do anything as much as I want to do that.”  
  
His husband’s reaction to the skyline when it came though, was so visceral and wonderful, his voice rough as he cuddled against Freddie, that the fairy couldn’t keep himself from beaming. “Well, technically, sweetheart, you _are_ being wooed by a millionaire…” he chuckled, “Just one that’s already had the good fortune to marry you.”  
  
“Think of this as… maintenance, yeah? Me reminding you that I’ll want to impress you and adore you and gaze at you from now until forever. “So I’m glad that you like it,” he murmured, tightening his grip.  
  
And he tightened his grip just a little bit more when Ephram leaned his face against Freddie’s temple, telling him that he wanted to leave his past behind; that he wanted Freddie to help him slough off the ugliness and pain that had come before, leaving nothing but the fairy’s own fingerprints behind. “Then that’s what we’ll do, love,” Freddie said softly. “Together we’ll scrape it away and find a place to put it where it can’t be a burden to you anymore.” He leaned into the gentle pressure beside him. “You’ve been so strong, sweetheart… and I’m so grateful that you’ll let me help you now. I love you so much, Ephram.”  
  
They stood quietly together for a moment, basking in everything they had, shouldering everything they’d endured, New York City shining magnificently before them - and somehow, Freddie thought, all felt absolutely right with the world.  
  
So he grinned at Ephram’s chiding, and dug his fingers playfully into his darling’s sides, hugging him closer when he squirmed. “Generous to a fault, you are,” the fairy laughed, “…so I’ll just make the most of that invitation.” He gave Ephram’s backside a squeeze, then slid a hand down into his lover’s trousers to push just a little on the base of the plug inside him. “The only question remains, do we want to stay out, or head back to the hotel?” Freddie rubbed his nose affectionately against Ephram’s. “The choice is yours, love.”  
  
“Is that plug driving you to distraction yet?”  
  
This was part of Freddie’s magic, where his clever tongue intersected with his generous heart to offer Ephram something that had been stripped away from him over and over and over again. Not just that Ephram should be taken care of. But that he _deserved_ to be. The addition of that word, that concept, made hope rise in Ephram’s chest again that this time, the promise wouldn’t end with him broken and aching, dumped like a corpse, unloved and at the end of its use. Freddie wasn’t going to be like any of the other people who Ephram had put his faith in, given his love to, tried to support. Freddie thought he _deserved to be taken care of_.  
  
Ephram was going to be mentally playing back that promise a lot of times, he knew it already.  
  
He chuckled at Freddie’s breezy reminder that he was indeed, my dear, with a man with millions at his disposal, and gave a pleased growling purr. “Maintenance wooing? Now that sounds like absolute perfection. And I love the way you woo. I never did stand a chance against your wooing ways.”  
  
They settled into softness as Ephram confessed what he needed and Freddie promised to help him, promised with the knowledge and conviction that could only be offered by another person who’d had their flesh bought and mortified. It was like they were exorcists, him and Freddie, casting out each other’s sicknesses. The ones that had been put inside them when they were too young to do anything other than survive it.  
  
But they had. And this, standing together enshrouded in a love so palpable that Ephram was certain they were surrounded by light, was where the two of them could finally know that they should, could, were going to be cared for.  
  
…and that being _cared for_ extended to all aspects of their love, Ephram reminded himself as Freddie’s fingers pushed at the plug and he hissed, moving up onto his toes from the sting. The glorious, icy-hot, aching reminder of their elevator ride.  
  
“Freddie,” Ephram said as his voice shook slightly, “take me back to the hotel. I want you to fuck me somewheres we won’t be limited to an hour and you can take me to pieces in your own time.”  
  
Freddie touched Ephram’s cheek gently, the little tremor in his husband’s voice simultaneously inspiring a swell of tenderness in the fairy, and igniting a slow burn of arousal - a burn that shouldn’t even have been possible, given their antics in the lift. But fairy biology and love were both wonderful things; and, possible or not, it caught fire all the same, leaving Freddie suddenly unable to bear the idea of waiting any longer to strip Ephram down and gaze at him. To drink in what was entirely his for the taking.  
  
Freddie wanted to linger over him like a banquet, or work of art - something to be savoured and appreciated and indulged in. To take his own pleasure slowly and thoroughly, and to bring his beautiful darling to the most shuddering tearful heights of wanton aching need…  
  
And Ephram was right; for any of that to be possible they would need time and comfort.  
  
Their bed was waiting for them.  
  
“Back to the hotel it is then,” Freddie said, drawing Ephram down into another kiss; this one long and deep and dirty, one hand still cupping his darling’s cheek, while the other pressed possessively at the small of his back. “…because I want exactly the same thing."  
  
They rode back down to the street, Freddie keeping his arm wrapped proprietorially around his husband, and he tucked them into the backseat the same way; wanting Ephram to feel his control, to know that Freddie had everything in hand - including him. And, shutting the door, the fairy informed their driver that there had been a change in plan and they’d be headed back to the Baccarat, then settled in to enjoy the drive, kissing and mouthing at Ephram’s ear as though he had every right in the world to avail himself of his sweetheart’s body at his leisure.  
  
And when they finally arrived back at their suite - Ollie having long since retired to another of their rooms to sleep - and Freddie had locked them in, he turned his hungry blue eyes on Ephram, instructing, “You’re going to undress for me now,” - his voice loving, but firm; brooking no argument.  
  
“I want to look at everything that’s mine.”  
  
It would have been out of the normal had Freddie not wanted the same thing, really, and as Ephram sank against his husband and fully into Freddie’s control, he realized with a thrilled shock how minuscule the odds were that Providence would grant anybody such a gift. Maybe he’d come to expect it, take their chemistry for granted, but this trip and the seamless exchange of power for both their pleasure brought back the point with emphasis.  
  
The wonderful enormity of that kept Ephram fairly quiet for the drive back to the Baccarat, as he focused on nothing except Freddie holding him, kissing him, telling him with every claiming touch that he was safe and loved and needed. He’d been treated like a possession before by hands much less caring than Freddie’s, at one of the lowest and loneliest most vulnerable points of his life; the memories of that bit at the edges of his consciousness, but Ephram wasn’t afraid of them. Not when he had Freddie’s strong, beloved body close, making Ephram’s heart beat fast for a reason diametrically opposite to terror and pain.  
  
They were back at the hotel as swiftly as if the city itself was ushering them there, Ephram shivering with remembered desire in the elevator up as Freddie’s hand strayed down the back of his trousers. Every move that his husband made was excruciatingly arousing, from ushering him into the suite to locking the door to issuing his instruction.  
  
“Yessir,” Ephram said with a dip of his chin. He started slowly, leaning his hips back against the couch so he could pull off his shoes and socks and set them aside; then he turned, taking off his watch and cufflinks and tie and placing them carefully on the seat of the sofa. “Sometimes when I think about you'n me,” he said, shouldering out of his jacket with his back still to Freddie and draping it precisely over the couch, “it’s like I got my white place back, that safe place in my head. Except it ain’t a place I need to hide in, or where to put things I want to forget.” Ephram went on, “So long as I got the knowledge of _you_ in there, I can think about the ways I been fucked by other men–”  
  
Ephram paused there, shirt halfway unbuttoned, and took a breath before continuing. “I can think about it and all the dirty, filthy, sick things I chased down after to make it happen again and again.” Shirt off, his shoulder blades knifing and then straightening out, Ephram undid his belt and pushed his pants and underwear down together, bending over so that the plug of Freddie’s glamoured ring was on full display for his fairy. The wetness inside slopped and slid, the plug aching in his sore hole as he stood up again and turned to face Freddie, fully naked. “I can think bout it and _you_ doing them things to me, and it’s like it sucks out the poison, bit by bit. It starts to hurt less, thinkin’ about _you_ hurting me.”  
  
Ephram’s voice, this confession, was as naked as he was as he stood waiting for Freddie’s next words. He smiled, the expression breaking slow and soft over his face, and said, “…you keep on healing me, Freddie. Everything you do, it takes away some of what I’ve had to carry.”  
  
Freddie stood back, watching as Ephram undressed for him, his darling laying each article removed aside with great care - so much more care than Freddie had ever shown his own things, never having learned to appreciate the value of money in the same way that Ephram had - and he smiled softly, and a little bit sadly. Though even that fell away from his lips when Ephram began to explain about his white place; and how what they shared, what they were to each other, had the means to restore it to him.  
  
It was such a starkly profound statement of love and trust; such a heartbreaking articulation of what Freddie meant to him; that the fairy felt his eyes fill with tears, his chest constricting, overcome at the idea that he was capable of being so important to someone so strong. Someone he stood so perpetually in awe of.  
  
The man that he loved so very very much.  
  
Freddie closed his eyes briefly as Ephram went on. Thinking of the things his husband had endured in the course of his life - the brutalities visited upon him in prison, and the ones he’d sought out afterward in an effort to make heads or tails of his sense of self, to wrench back some control after having it stripped away so thoroughly - never failing to scald; to tear at Freddie’s heart because he had not been there to protect him, to comfort him. And when the fairy opened them again, the sight of plug went straight to his cock, making him swell in his trousers, straining against his zip.  
  
He felt a brief flicker of contrition that he could be moved so carnally while his sweetheart’s soul was bared in the same way as his body - but Freddie pushed it aside just as quickly. There was no room for shame between them. He and Ephram belonged to one another in all ways, at all times. And Freddie would take everything his husband had to give, and he would celebrate it and adore it. He would worship him in all the ways permitted, and needed, and longed for, to the best of his ability, to the brink of his own limits, for the rest of their lives together.  
  
That they were fundamentally different in their approaches to pain - in their willingness to embrace it, to experience it, to mete it out - Freddie knew that Ephram understood; but as he spoke of what imagining Freddie in those instances could bring him, the fairy nodded silently, unafraid to meet his darling’s eyes.  
  
He was so proud of him. So struck by the grace Ephram possessed in spite of what he’d had to live with.  
  
The kind of bravery necessary to confess something so hard to articulate was staggering, and when Ephram smiled, his vulnerability so beautiful thrown into relief against the towering strength he held, Freddie couldn’t bear not to be touching him, and he crossed the room to wrap him in his arms. To hold him and kiss him and murmur, “I’m sorry it took me so long to find you, darling.”  
  
“But you’ll never have to manage it alone again.”  
  
Ephram hadn’t expected a reaction from Freddie other than this, his precious lover needing to drop any veneer and close the space between them to physically reinforce their closeness. He curled against Freddie, hands traveling over the muscles of Freddie’s back, the outline of his wings, the narrow dip of his waist. “Don’t you ' _sorry_ ’ me,” Ephram scolded gently, nipping a corner of Freddie’s perfectly groomed eyebrow before licking the spot. “We both had to find our ways to each other, didn’t we? You had plenty to deal with your own self.”  
  
The sort of strength that Ephram was possessed of, he’d inherited from his people and the land that he loved so much, the way that they bore a hardscrabble life and the looming threat of the coal mines and their livelihood. He had an understanding of it and how much he could take, with the help of God’s grace of course. Ephram tended not to worry whether or not he had the fortitude to withstand trouble, even when it felt like he’d be alone in managing the pain and loneliness. It merely was a hard truth and his burden to bear and he’d trudge onward until his back and his mind gave out.  
  
No, it was _Freddie_ who was the miracle.  
  
It never failed to throw Ephram’s emotions into churning turmoil thinking about his fairy, only a child when he was first raped at those fucking boarding schools and taught that it was the only thing that made him valuable, special, worthwhile. A lesson that took firm root with a little boy who’d been parched of anybody to love him or give him simple attention or affection. Reduced to being a dirty little secret, when he should have been the jewel of anybody’s heart.  
  
Oh, but in a way, wasn’t he? When Martin Adjaye planted that godforsaken Bvlgari Blue diamond in Freddie’s body, manipulating a seventeen-year old who was desperate to be loved into offering himself up for the butchery of Adjaye’s attentions and tender mercies? As much as Freddie felt helpless heartbreak over what Ephram had endured at the same age, Ephram’s feelings were very similar when it came to his sweet fairy’s conditioning of himself to diminish what he’d been subjected to.  
  
This was why they’d met; this was why they’d been inseparable ever since, as Freddie said. They never had to manage being made to feel like nothing, not ever again.  
  
Ephram didn’t want the mood to turn maudlin, though; holding Freddie that close made him aware of his husband’s hardness, his own cock coming to full stiffness. “You’re the very best thing to ever happen to me,” he said, “and I want you to have me whatever way would make you happy. If it’s some way you been thinkin’ bout but wasn’t sure if I’d be interested, well – I am. In anything, in everything. So long as it’s with you, Freddie.”  
  
Gently disentangling himself, Ephram took a step back, the smile still touching his lips. “You wanna take the plug out?” he prompted. “You wanna feed me your spunk and then come on my face? Wanna watch me jerk off?” He licked his palm and wrapped his hand around his red, twitching dick, making lazy twisting pulls as he regarded Freddie from beneath lowered lashes. “C'mon, honey. Use me up. Put it in me, make me take it, wear me out. You said you wanted to make me scream while I was split open on your cock, din’t you?”  
  
Freddie took the gentle rebuke with a nod and a small smile knowing that Ephram was right, but unable to stop himself from wishing that things could have been different all the same. When he felt Ephram harden against him though, telling him that he was the best thing that had ever happened to him, that there was nothing Ephram didn’t want to do with Freddie if it would please him, the fairy let out a little growl of hungry happiness, his own cock thick and eager and waiting to be freed.  
  
“Every way I have you makes me happy,” Freddie said, “And you know I’m not shy about asking for the things I want…” But as Ephram began to offer suggestions, pulled from comments Freddie had made over the course of the evening and things they’d done before, he couldn’t deny that each and every one held its own special kind of appeal tonight. And Freddie began to rub his prick through his trousers as he let his eyes travel over Ephram’s body, lingering on the way his darling was already playing with himself.  
  
“I did,” he said in response to his Ephram’s question about making him scream, "And I intend to. But I think I want to be greedy tonight, and have a bit of everything.” The fairy smiled, beginning to unbutton his shirt. “Your mouth, your ass, your hands… wear you out, just like you want me to.”  
  
“So stop that,” he said firmly. “You’ll touch your cock when I give you permission, and not a moment before.”  
  
“Get on bed, and spread your legs for me. You can touch the base of that plug while I undress, but absolutely nothing else.”  
  
And Freddie watched as Ephram did as he was told, discarding his own shirt carelessly as he kicked off his shoes; his trousers, socks, and underwear soon nothing more than a puddle of cloth on the floor; and he stretched out his wings as he joined Ephram on the bed, kneeling between the splay of his lover’s thighs. Moving his husband’s hands to his sides, pressing them down against the mattress, and then beginning to twist the golden plug, pushing at it and turning it, before working it slowly out again; a thick dribble of spunk following it, warm white against the reddened flush of Ephram’s hole.  
  
The plug itself was slick with semen, and Freddie gathered it onto his fingers before setting the toy aside, its glamour dropping; and he moved up Ephram’s body, breathing him in and leaving a trail of his own hot breath in his wake. Then, propping himself up on one arm, their cocks brushing together as he loomed over his husband, the fairy bent his head to lick into Ephram’s mouth; kissing him long and slow before pulling back and pressing his messy fingers to his darling’s lips.  
  
“Eat up, sweetheart,” he said, “I want you to enjoy your dessert.”  
  
“Be greedy,” Ephram agreed as he went over to the bed, sprawling out on it and parting his thighs as he peaked his knees. “You’re beautiful when you’re indulging yourself in what you want, Freddie.” He brushed his fingertips against the plug, twisting it slowly so that they could both hear how it made Ephram’s breath stutter and know that his hole was going to be used again despite the rough fucking it had already endured.  
  
On the floor of an elevator in the _Empire State Building_ after the fanciest supper Ephram could have imagined.  
  
“I’m so spoiled,” Ephram murmured happily to himself as Freddie’s skin came gradually bare, every inch of it sublimely warm and sun-touched (having watched his darling perfect that tan au natural in their backyard, Ephram knew very well that he was gilded all over). He felt a proud, self-satisfied tug in his belly to see how swiftly Freddie was getting naked, how much he wanted to get started on the all-night ravishing he desired. But that took a sharp reversal when Freddie snapped his wings out to their sapphire blue full extension, the elegant dragonfly shape accentuating the musculature of his shoulders and chest; without thinking, Ephram pushed the base of the plug deeper with a plaintive cry as his legs splayed out flat along the bed.  
  
“I want you so much,” Ephram said, completely unable to dissemble or tease any more as Freddie denied him the use of his hands. “Oh God, Freddie, I can’t think of nothin’ else but you, how you talk to me, how you touch me, the way we belong to each other…” His hips lifted from the bed as Freddie manipulated the plug, Ephram’s hopelessly swollen mouth open and panting as he lost his grip on how to string words together. There was an emptiness without the plug, without the spunk that had been stoppered inside his body, but Freddie was soon above him and kissing him as Ephram’s cock strained for more pressure, more friction.  
  
The taste of Freddie’s cum was like nothing Ephram had expected. He sucked those fingers into his mouth eagerly, sluttishly, sucking and biting and salivating; it tasted of Freddie, of course, but there was a rawness and fleshiness, a deep musky metallic taste as well. Moaning, Ephram’s entire body undulated up from the sheets, seeking Freddie’s weight and skin-to-skin contact, aching to be held down and claimed and loved hard. “I wish there was more,” Ephram said, a note of petulance in his voice. “You taste so good, Freddie, everything you feed me is so good.”  
  
Every single noise that Ephram made, every little panting moan, and catch of breath, went directly to Freddie’s cock, drawing it up tight against his belly; aching for more of what it had already had, leaking pearls of precum that rolled thickly down his shaft to hang in the soft well-tended thatch of hair between his legs.  
  
And by the time he’d crawled up Ephram’s nearly quivering body to push his spend into his darling’s slutty little mouth, the growl that escaped him as Ephram’s tongue swiped over his fingers like his witch was ravenous, sounded almost feral - even to Freddie’s own ears. He rocked his hips forward, dragging his cock slowly against his sweetheart’s again, then smirked at Ephram’s pettish little whine for more spunk, his darling’s long lovely body straining for more of everything else. “Oh, there’ll be more than you can manage,” the fairy rumbled; his eyes dark, rolling his hips into a punishing sort of grind, “I’m going to make a mess of you tonight…”  
  
He kissed Ephram hard again, biting at his lips as he murmured, “Because you’re my sweet boy, who’s always so eager to be fed.”  
  
Pulling back again, Freddie bit sharply at Ephram’s left nipple before soothing it with his tongue, smoothing his hands up the backs of his husband’s strong beautiful legs and pushing them up to his chest; holding them open wide as he lined up, catching the sticky swollen head of his cock against Ephram’s already abused rim, and pushing his way inside shallowly. Gasping as his witch’s greedy hole swallowed him like it too was ravenous for more.  
  
He pumped his hips a few times, short staccato jabbing thrusts that shook the both of them, the meaty ridge of Freddie’s cock tugging at Ephram’s raw little cunt each time he pulled out - and then finally, he buried himself to the hilt, his balls slapping against Ephram’s ass, pressing close and taking his husband’s mouth again, curling him up and fucking into him ferociously.  
  
“Is this how you want it?” Freddie panted against Ephram’s lips - against his jaw - between forceful domineering kisses, “Or do you need it harder?”  
  
The fairy pounded his cock deeper, leaving Ephram’s own to rub, neglected, against his abs. “God, I love the way you take it…” Freddie groaned, “Like you were fucking _made_ for me…”  
  
“I can manage,” Ephram promised hastily, “whatever we do, Freddie, whatever mess you make of your boy. I want all that you can give me. And more too.” He felt the stickiness of Freddie’s cock against his own, how much precum his fairy was leaking in anticipation of fucking into Ephram again, and his own cock immediately answered with a spurt of its own. “Ohhh,” Ephram moaned, the sound throaty and self-conscious as he kicked against the sheets, “oh, I can’t hold on, it all feels so good–”  
  
Freddie’s teeth closed over Ephram’s nipple then, and without thinking he grasped his husband’s head as his back arched off the mattress, throat warming with a loud cry of pleasure that left him reeling and aching, wanting more of that sort of sharp, hungry attention. But Freddie had already pushed his legs back, opening him up wide; Ephram’s softened hole made a wet, wanton sound as the gape of it spread further. His lover rose above him, those magnificent wings straight and proud as his similarly magnificent cock pushed into Ephram’s body just enough to make him groan for more. “Please,” he begged. “Do it to me, Freddie, fuck me open enough so you can see right inside my cunt. See everything what’s yours.”  
  
He hadn’t let go of Freddie’s head, wanting to see that beautiful face made ravenous with lust and not miss even a momentary flicker of expression. But once Freddie's cock plunged all the way into him, leaving a glorious streak of pain along its path, Ephram’s hands fell to the bed palms-up and he made a shuddering, horselike sound as Freddie began to ride him. His muscles were screaming from being bent over so far, his tailbone starting to feel bruised, his balls tight and aching and his cock rubbing raw – but it was bliss. It was pure heaven, the way Freddie made use of those prodigious muscles to piledrive his cock into Ephram’s pleading, clutching cunt. He could hardly catch his breath between that and the way that Freddie was kissing him, claiming his territory with each one he took from his witch’s slack, moaning mouth.  
  
“I _was_ made for you,” he agreed, wrapping his arms low around Freddie’s hips. “Even if I wasn’t, you’d force my insides to be fitted for you, I know you would.” Ephram’s voice shook, made unstable by Freddie’s cock bottoming out inside his ass on each lunge and jarring him along the bed and its rucking sheets. Those kisses were driving him crazy, the way that Freddie took what he wanted and took control. It was intoxicating to be entirely at the hands of his beloved, and even more so because even out here in the World with them twisting and turning their usual dynamic on its head, Freddie was still unmistakably _Freddie_. The man he loved more than any other.  
  
“I need it harder,” Ephram sobbed, throwing his head back as his arms fell from where they were looped around Freddie’s hips, coming to rest on either side of the pillow in fitful fists. “As hard as you can manage, Freddie, I wanna know. I need to know how far you can take me. I love you so much, I love you, I need to know.”  
  
“You need it however I’ll give it to you,” Freddie rasped, the clenching heat of Ephram’s ass, the wet silky drag of their flesh, stealing his breath. He lifted his head, eyes dark as they stared into his sweetheart’s, his thrusts slowing again, the frenzy shifting down into something sharp and brutal. Something concentrated. “And you’ll hold on until I tell you otherwise,” the fairy growled. “You’ll cum when and where I say.”  
  
“I love you,” Freddie gritted out, pushing his face against Ephram’s neck as he fucked into him, “…love you more than anything else…”  
  
He couldn’t offer his husband ugliness, or cruelty, or degradation - though he knew there was a part of Ephram that craved those things, for all sorts of cruel, ugly, snarled up reasons. But it just wasn’t who Freddie was; that kind of darkness just wasn’t something he could bring himself to embrace at his core. What he could do though, was to banish his gentler impulses when his darling needed him to. He could allow himself to be ruled by rough lust and possessive hunger. To lead with his strength and his id and his cock.  
  
Freddie could take what he wanted - what was his - and glory in it, like a conquering king.  
  
Sinking his teeth into Ephram’s shoulder with a groan as he rode him deep, his fingers digging hard into the backs of his sweetheart’s thighs, sure to leave dark painful little bruises, Freddie pulled back when the faint tang of copper hit his tongue - and he pulled out without warning, his dick giving a sticky slap against his belly as he pushed Ephram into a more severe curl, groaning at the sight.  
  
“My little slut, aren’t you?” the fairy breathed, “Desperate to be stuffed full of cock, your cunt aching for it…” Freddie buried his face between Ephram’s cheeks, lapping at him obscenely and pushing his tongue as deep as it would go; the lingering taste of his own spunk there only making him hotter. “Should keep you plugged the whole time we’re here… every second that I’m not fucking you. Make sure you remember who you belong to; who that pussy belongs to…”  
  
Freddie only allowed himself to linger so long though. And, tearing himself away, his lips red and slick, he manhandled Ephram over onto his belly like a ragdoll, and grabbed him roughly by the hips; hauling him up onto his knees until he was presented like a bitch in heat - face down, arse up, knees wide. Taking him hard again without a moment’s hesitation.  
  
Pulling Ephram into each snap of his hips,and grunting his pleasure like an animal; sweat dripping down his chest, his wings vibrating with tension.  
  
Freddie refused to touch Ephram’s cock though - wanting him aching and needy for it, trapped on the razor’s edge - and the fairy ran down his own orgasm instead; cumming with a roar and then watching, his lungs burning, as his spend coated his still thrusting prick.  
  
And, burying himself balls-deep once more, he held Ephram there with one hand’s iron grip on his witch’s hip while the other reached out for a handful of damp blond hair, pulling Ephram’s head back to be sure he had his undivided attention.  
  
“You’re going to clean my cock now,” the fairy instructed, his voice thick and low, “-and then you’re going to sit on my chest, so that I can feel my spunk dripping out of you while you wank for me.” Freddie tightened his grip incrementally on his grip on his witch’s hair. “But you’re not to cum, do you understand?”  
  
“You’re only to get me hard again. You’ll cum on my cock, or not at all…”  
  
It was more than enough.  
  
Because it was Freddie. When he told Ephram that he was a slut, left sheet music of bruises on his skin, bit down until skin popped open, fucked ravenously with his tongue, it all served to work Ephram into a mess of open, gasping emotion. It was experiencing the selfsame ugliness (that Freddie couldn’t, wouldn’t do and that Ephram wouldn’t ask him for) translated and transformed into something that wouldn’t wound either of them. Something entirely their own.  
  
Because with every dirty name Freddie called him, every proclamation of his dominance and Ephram’s duty being solely to comply, it stripped away some of the anguish of being forced into those situations in prison. At seventeen, knowing nothing about what it would be and how it would leave him, crawling in the muck of his own guilt and debasement. With Freddie, there was none of that. Ephram could be his little slut, with his pussy belonging to Freddie in whatever way Freddie wanted to use it, and he’d still be _loved_ and cherished and whole afterwards.  
  
“Yeah, Freddie,” Ephram panted, making a little moue of pain and protest both when Freddie pulled out, pushed his legs back further. His toes clenched in the air, long bones of his foot moving like piano keys as Freddie wielded his tongue mercilessly and Ephram clutched onto Freddie’s broad shoulders, fingers kneading the slicked-up muscles there. “I ain’t a fuck-slut like this for nobody else, it’s only you.” He tried to push against Freddie’s probing tongue, but the angle was too awkward and Freddie had his hip pinned in place. There was to be no slowing down or speeding up; only what Freddie wanted mattered.  
  
The carnality of that thought hit Ephram hard, and he gave a shuddering moan when Freddie turned him onto his front, handling him no more carefully than he would an armful of towels. “Make me remember,” Ephram managed to say, agreeing, before Freddie drove back into him again.  
  
Ephram’s scream as his body was roughly entered reverberated around the room and he froze, but that didn’t matter because Freddie was hauling him back to meet the pistoning of that spectacular cock. The sound of his wings thrumming only heightened the feeling of frenzy and tension, and Ephram let his hot, opened mouth drag against the sheets as his husband beat into his already-abused hole, widening that gape. All of him felt wet – his face, his eyes, his skin and hair, his pussy, his cock – and even more so when Freddie blew an enormous load of spunk inside him with a roar that rivaled the cry Ephram had made.  
  
Dazed, Ephram couldn’t do much more than hitch helpless sobs, his ass clinging desperately to Freddie’s cock, as his fairy yanked his head up and gave him further instructions. “Yes, Freddie,” he gasped. “I only get to cum when you let me, because my cum belongs to you. Just like the rest of me.”  
  
Pulling away gradually, Ephram turned himself around on the bed still on all fours and took Freddie’s glistening cock in one hand, lowering his mouth over the head of it. He moaned instantly; the thick meat of it felt so hot and hard, tasted so masculine and good and filthy. He began to work his tongue into every crevice, right down to Freddie’s balls, and back up again to begin sucking. Pulling off momentarily as he unwrapped his fingers, Ephram looked at Freddie with dark, intent eyes, begging, “–if you want me to do it different, slap me. In the face.”  
  
That one, he wasn’t sure if Freddie would be comfortable with. But Ephram had phrased it very carefully as an option, just in case Ephram wasn’t doing a good enough job or maybe needed some direction. It was entirely up to his husband whether or not he chose to use the punishment.  
  
“That’s my good boy,” Freddie murmured, easing his grip on Ephram’s hair and carding his fingers through it instead once his witch had shown that he understood what was expected of him. The fairy rocked his hips a little, pushing just a bit deeper, before pulling out entirely; petting Ephram’s hair one more time before allowing his darling any sort of range of motion again.  
  
He had softened considerably by the time Ephram turned himself around to do as he’d been bidden, his cock filthy with cum and incredibly sensitive, and Freddie let out a deep groan as Ephram began to lick him clean. Biting his lip as that hot wet mouth lavished his prick with attention, shuddering slightly when Ephram’s tongue would find a particularly tender spot.  
  
And he watched, rapt, as his beautiful husband sucked him liked he’d been born to the task. Like there was nothing in the world Ephram had ever wanted as much as he wanted the taste of Freddie’s cock on his tongue now.  
  
When Ephram pulled off though, pleading with Freddie to correct him with a slap if he needed to, the fairy’s stomach churned for a moment uncomfortably - and then he delivered a sudden swat to his lover’s cheek with his fingers; providing a clear view of their current balance of power, but physically withholding the violence.  
  
Which, arguably, was another expression of power in and of itself.  
  
“If I want you to do it differently,” Freddie said sternly, curling his fingers around Ephram’s skull and guiding him back to his prick, “-you’ll know it. Now don’t pull off again.”  
  
So Ephram went back to work, and Freddie took hold of his head this time, fingers tangled in his sweetheart’s sweaty hair, rolling his hips, and groaning low in the back of his throat - until finally, he tugged Ephram away for good, despite glistening stings of saliva doing their level best to keep them connected.  
  
Because he wasn’t quite hard yet - but he was halfway there (fairy biology was brilliant in all sorts of ways), and Ephram still had instructions to follow.  
  
Bending, Freddie yanked Ephram’s head back and kissed him hard before finally letting him go; laying down and folding one arm behind his head, patting his chest with his free hand. “I want you right here,” he instructed.  
  
“You’re going to bring yourself right up to the edge for me - and I’m going to do whatever I have a mind to, until I’m hard enough to fuck you again.”  
  
The feel of Freddie’s fingers against his face was a sharp, unexpected sting – bright and sparkling, and Ephram contentedly slipped his mouth back down over Freddie’s spit- and cum-stained cock. He nursed that slight throb across his face while he suckled and licked at his husband’s prick, his head moving with eager intent as he bobbed and pushed against Freddie’s fingers caught in his hair. Even with the admonition not to take his mouth off Freddie’s cock again, Ephram wouldn’t have been able to, not with that stern hand cupping his skull.  
  
So instead he looked up at Freddie with sluttish gratitude; drinking in his lover’s charmingly mussed-up hair and his darkened blue eyes, lashes a thick dark fringe, well-turned nose and jam-berry mouth, and those sweet pointed ears that Ephram loved so very much. His broad chest and shoulders, the stained-glass jewel tones of his wings, the defined stretch of his abs. And, eternally, the cock filling Ephram’s mouth as his beloved fairy used him like a goddamn glory hole, plowing in with as much energy and claim as he’d fucked Ephram’s ass. Finally letting his eyes drift almost shut, Ephram consciously relaxed his throat. It turned the wet choking and moaning sounds into an obscene glugging, which (despite Ephram’s ravenous enthusiasm for it) sounded so desperate, so submissive, that his cock tapped against his belly as an insistent reminder.  
  
And then he was pulled off, mouth slack and dripping, aching at the corners of his lips and the back of his throat. “You – you wannit different?” he rasped, voice salt-wrecked and panting hard. But that wasn’t Freddie’s intent, it seemed. Ephram moaned when Freddie pulled his head back – gave him a punishingly hard kiss – then reminded Ephram of what the plan had been. The original plan. Which involved Ephram getting his matchless partner’s body ready to fuck again.  
  
Who would argue with a plan like that?  
  
“Yessir,” Ephram said quietly, crawling over Freddie’s supine form. “You’re … so, so handsome,” he marvelled as he moved up, dawdling a little. “It’s hard to believe, sometimes. That you ain’t a movie star or some fantasy all made up in my head. You’re dreamy enough to be one, Freddie.” Reaching the indicated spot, Ephram sat upright, shuddering as he felt the hot cum inside him – held there by his not getting off all fours to this point – start to seep out against Freddie’s sweat-slicked skin.  
  
Reaching between them, Ephram swiped a couple of fingerfuls of spunk, twirling them just under the head of his cock and hissing as it reacted violently to being touched with a purpose. He paused, then moved down to his balls to cup them in one big palm and squeeze; too hard, it might have looked like to anybody watching, but there was nothing but pleasure in how Ephram sounded. He gripped his cock again with only the circle of his thumb and middle finger, other fingers splayed out almost delicately, and started a fast, off-kilter strip up and down his prick. “What I must fuckin’ look like,” Ephram managed to say, blushing but aroused at the notion.  
  
He cut himself off, his cock having reared up thick and dark, and wrapped the rest of his fingers around the shaft to give himself some cool-down time. Ephram knew that Freddie probably wouldn’t brook too much dawdling, though, so he resettled himself (thighs coated with cum at this point) and pressed his thumbnail against the wet, tender head of his cock. “nnnnnngrhhhh,” Ephram grunted, but sure enough his cock sprang up again like he’d flipped a switch. Setting the other hand down against Freddie’s chest, Ephram urgently pinched and twisted one of Freddie’s nipples, hard.  
  
“I’m gonna cum, daddy, I’m gonna, you gotta stop me please...”

Freddie couldn’t help but smile as Ephram slowly crawled up his body, telling him how handsome he was (never one to be unmoved by a compliment; especially a compliment from his husband) - and when his darling finally settled himself in the right spot, tall and golden as he loomed over him, that gorgeous cock only inches from the fairy’s face, Freddie let out a self-satisfied growl as he felt his own spunk leaking out of Ephram to smear deliciously against their skin.  
  
It just stirred something deep and primal inside him to have his sweetheart so thoroughly and wantonly marked as his.  
  
“You look fucking beautiful,” he said, meaning it with everything he had. He licked his lips as Ephram stroked himself, loving him fiercely, the smell of him thick and delectable in the fairy’s nose as Freddie rubbed his hands up Ephram’s thighs. “Like my own slutty little angel…”  
  
“Does it feel good?” he asked, already breathing heavier as he watched; his own cock swelling eagerly, the blue of his eyes all but swallowed by stormy arousal. “Push yourself harder for me. All the way to the edge…”  
  
And then, moving one hand around to slide three fingers up into Ephram’s wet cum-slicked hole - both of them sticky with it now - Freddie began to finger fuck him in time with his witch’s own rhythm. “Come on…” he breathed, “-tell me how it feels…”  
  
But when Ephram suddenly twisted his nipple, Freddie let out a grunt of pained pleasure, his now-throbbing cock spurting precum, and he pulled his fingers free; spanking his lover’s ass sharply, and then covering the hand that Ephram was using to touch himself with his own and squeezing.  
  
“If you cum, Daddy’s going to be very disappointed,” Freddie gritted out, “So you’re not going to.”  
  
“You’re going to get up on your knees like a good boy, and when I’ve sat up, you’ll put yourself down on my cock. All the way down.”  
  
The fairy tightened his grip. “And then we’ll see about letting you cum, yeah? If you behave yourself.”  
  
Freddie’s hands riffling the hair on Ephram’s thighs drew a guttural moan from him; there was no mistaking the possessive pleasure that his husband was taking from this, equal in passion to how completely Freddie surrendered when Ephram was the one claiming him. Ephram didn’t think he’d have the gumption to wear a collar outright like Freddie did (not that their relationship was one that would lend itself to mutual collars; that was something just for Freddie, so Ephram could ensure that his darling never ever lost sight of the fact that he was loved and kept) so he let his body and his voice tell Freddie how he felt.  
  
Being called a slutty little angel drove it home anew. The five years between them in age weren’t a big deal – they were both capable adults – but occasionally, when Freddie was the one railing Ephram till he howled or taking care of him with meticulous and loving attention to everything Ephram could ever need, those years came into play. It was new for Ephram to be with a partner who he could completely give in to, without having to be hyper-alert about their dangerous needs or moods or predicaments.  
  
“Feels like you’re makin’ me earn your cock,” Ephram panted, tongue pushing softly against the bank of his front teeth as his hand worked his prick. “Like you want me putting on this show for you so’s you can see how I’m aching for you, Freddie, how much I–”  
  
His words slid off with a groan as Freddie pushed those three fingers into his already feverish and swollen hole, which offered no resistance whatsoever. Wringing his hand around his cock, Ephram made a rattling, pleading sound in his throat as he rode Freddie’s fingers, warning his husband about needing to shoot his load; and Freddie, Freddie stopped him from doing it.  
  
In a way that made Ephram yowl, the sudden painful constriction of his cock dovetailing with Freddie’s stern Daddy admonishment. He doubled over almost far enough for their noses to touch, the muscles in his abdomen tight and strained. But it felt so fucking good having the man he loved handle him roughly, with such sureness and authority, such determination to bring Ephram what he wanted.  
  
“I don’t want you disappointed,” Ephram promised, swallowing over and over and licking his lips. “You ain’t never disappointed me. I wanna be the same.”  
  
Ass still stinging from that hard slap, cock throbbing from the extra hard squeeze Freddie delivered in parting, Ephram moved back a little to settle his knees on either side of Freddie, just below where his hips rested. “All the way down,” he repeated, holding Freddie’s gaze even as sweat trickled down his face at the bare thought of forcing his cunt to swallow up Freddie’s considerable girth in one go. “Whatever you want, yessir.”  
  
“You’re not going to disappoint me,” Freddie said, his voice deep and certain as Ephram rose up on his knees and the fairy pushed himself up to sit with his back straight, his wings stretching wide again. “You’re going to take my cock like I know that you can - like you’ve earned, yeah? You’re going to milk me dry with that beautiful greedy ass, and then you’re going to cum for me like a pretty little fountain.”  
  
“That’s what you want, isn’t it, sweetheart? Your belly full of my spunk again?” Freddie looked down at the glistening semen smeared all over Ephram’s thighs and his balls, all over his own chest - and he smirked.  
  
“’Course you bloody do….”  
  
Then, taking hold of Ephram’s arse with both hands, the flesh feverishly hot where he’d slapped it, the fairy gripped him hard, kneading the firm muscle proprietorially, before pulling him open. “All the way down,” he repeated, mouthing at Ephram’s nipples, sucking and biting them, kissing at his husband’s sweaty skin, and rubbing his face across his chest.  
  
“ _Now_.”  
  
Ephram let his shaggy head fall back when Freddie’s lips and teeth found his nipples, draping his arms around his husband’s neck and riding up and down against him – not on his cock, not yet, but fucking his own yearning dick against the cut and grooves of Freddie’s oh-so-toned body. “Freddie,” he whimpered as his fairy spread him open, nothing now but one long stream of need and want and love and heat in the shape of a person. A person who was loved, this much.  
  
Freddie gave his command, and Ephram obeyed.  
  
This time his scream was more sandpaper hoarse, pained but with an unmistakable silk of fulfillment, of adoration, of joy at a promised lifetime of them getting to sink into each other in a million varying configurations. “I love you,” Ephram gasped, feeling like there would never be anything more important than that to say. “I love you.” His cunt felt more open than it had ever been, the thin lip of muscle gaped but still needing that force of his own weight in order to swallow up his beautiful husband’s prick all the way, all the way down. He’d frozen there once it was all in, trying to adjust to the hot-cold fireworks going off in his lower belly, the way it was unbearable and incandescent at the same time.  
  
Ephram clutched at Freddie’s hair, eyes dark and wild as he stared down at his husband and started to fuck his shaking body onto Freddie’s cock. Each jabbing thrust brought a shuddering moan, particularly when Ephram simply let gravity do the heavy work of it and brought him crashing down against Freddie’s strong thighs, the tight wet swell of his balls. His hands were everywhere, feeling that glorious muscle along his fairy’s back and shoulders, the column of his neck and the corset of his hips, grabbing at Freddie to bring him closer, closer _closercloser_ and maybe they’d become one golden creature and never have to separate ever again.  
  
Grasping the base of one wing with his opposing hand, other arm banding across the back of Freddie’s shoulders, Ephram pushed himself down again, controlling every second of it. He went slowly, but not all the way; pulling off high enough that only the fat head of Freddie’s cock was inside him, Ephram let the muscles in his trembling legs give out and impaled himself wholly onto his husband’s twitching prick.  
  
This time he was too oversensitized to even manage a scream. This time it was only a sob, a whine and a whimper, Ephram dropping his heavy head to lay on Freddie’s shoulder as his fingers worked fretfully along Freddie’s wing and through his hair. “Fuck me, please, Freddie,” he begged. “I need you, so much, I can’t take it no more. Please. I’ll fuckin’ _die_ if you don’t.” In his right mind, Ephram would never have thought such a silly, melodramatic thing much less said it. But here, just the two of them and with his entire world full of the feel and sound and scent of his husband, it was all he could think of that would get across the depth of his need.  
  
Freddie let out a deep ragged groan as Ephram came down hard, seating himself fully and swallowing Freddie’s cock all the way to the root; wrapping his arms around his husband tightly and just holding him there; the both of them adjusting to the feeling of being so perfectly joined together. Panting wetly against Ephram’s skin until words became something he was capable of again.  
  
“I love you too,” the fairy breathed, “Christ, Ephram… I love you so much, sweetheart…”  
  
Freddie rolled his hips, rocking up as his darling would come down, but mostly he made Ephram set the pace and do the work; grunting with raw aggressive pleasure as Ephram fucked himself on his prick, biting and licking and sucking at every bit of skin he could reach. Groaning louder and more gutturally as his witch manipulated gravity into something filthy and primitive, the two of them clinging to each other with grasping possessive hands - until finally Ephram came down so hard that Freddie let out a snarling roar, his head swimming and his vision failing him as the exquisite force of that impalement turned his spine to mercury, his balls aching with the need to lay his claim again.  
  
And for a moment, as Ephram shook and whimpered in his arms, Freddie cradled his husband more gently than he had since he’d ordered him to the bed, the fairy’s hips still rocking, pushing himself incrementally deeper. Keeping Ephram twitching as he begged for Freddie to take control again and fuck him.  
  
“Daddy’s here, love,’ he murmured, “Shh… I’ve got you…”  
  
And then he heaved Ephram down onto his back, his cock still buried deep. Pulling nearly all the way out and driving back in again, savage and breathless; hammering his cock into his poor exhausted sweetheart until he came again with a shuddering howl of completion, pulling out to shoot the last few spurts of his load all over Ephram’s cock and balls.  
  
Painting him with it like a whore.  
  
Freddie could still barely get his breath as he took Ephram in hand, jerking him roughly, and rasping, “Cum in my mouth” before ducking down to close his lips around the swollen red head of Ephram’s prick.  
  
The fleeting nature of fairy moods might have shaped Freddie’s unmatchable ability to go from ravenous beast to comforting lover in the flicker of an eyelash, but Ephram liked to think – as his husband filled him again and again, taking as much as he wanted without stopping for even a moment – that it was a natural flow of the way they were linked. Silver fairy dust and green witch magic making it seamless whenever they dipped from role to role, when Ephram had Freddie shackled to the bed in their special room as a fucktoy or when Freddie had Ephram folded over on his back like this or when they fucked slow and sweet on mornings when they both had yet to fully wake up. Making love, fucking, having sex, it was all the same to them. No semantic divisions.  
  
Freddie piledriving into Ephram was fucking, yeah, but it was also making love.  
  
The feel of Freddie’s spend lashing inside him, thinner and even hotter this time, drew a matching (albeit more plaintive) howl from Ephram, subsiding into gasping moans as he watched the jets of creamy spunk mark him in such an overtly objectifying way. It sent a thrill up Ephram’s spine, keeping him distracted when Freddie started to jerk him off and then without much warning, cushioned the head of Ephram’s aching cock in his luscious and reddened lips.  
  
Freddie must have known that Ephram wouldn’t last long, when he was finally allowed to cum. Teeth gritted, he strained against Freddie’s hand and mouth to try and get in deeper, that task being the distilled centre of his universe even in the midst of the liquid, filthy sounds and the unctuous smell of their sex and the noises that came unbidden and formless from their throats. For a horrible moment, Ephram’s release – now that it was imminent – started to recede, and he keened in panic, squirming around. But Freddie, of course, could recognize a spoiled orgasm on the horizon, and he did something with that glorious fat sugarplum mouth of his that brought the jizz rushing out of Ephram’s balls in what felt like a jet blast, dribbling and then spurting hard again, going on and on in Freddie’s hot, compelling mouth.  
  
When it was all over, Ephram lay under his husband shaking, breathing fast, making tiny sounds of faint distress. It was normal for him, this aftereffect; his body got overstimulated and even the barest touch against his skin after a fuck like that would make him flinch away. It was like nettles, though. Hold him firmly and it made him not feel like he was going crazy, ready to fly apart in a burst of nerve endings.  
  
Still, it would be bad if Ephram had pushed Freddie to this place and then abandoned him by retreating into his own aftershocks. Checking in had always been a crucial part of their more kinky fucks, and god knew this was up there with them. “Baby,” he whispered, swallowing to ease his dry throat, “Freddie, honey. You’re … you’re everything.” Ephram shut his eyes, replaying snatches of their night’s events, the places and things Freddie had given him that Ephram never would have encountered on his own. “Thank you so much. For lovin’ me like you do. For lovin’ me even when I want things that ain’t in your nature.”  
  
It didn’t take much to coax Ephram’s orgasm back to the fore. And when it came, filling Freddie’s mouth with a hot thick rush of spunk, the fairy swallowed some of it and held the rest; savouring the salty taste of his husband on his tongue, before finally pulling off carefully to push himself up and check in on his poor sweet darling.  
  
Freddie had used him so harshly, and so thoroughly - he felt shaky himself now in the wake of it; part of him surprised that he’d gone so far, and part of him worried that he’d pushed too hard in ways Ephram hadn’t expected of him - that he needed to pick up his pieces now. To knit them both back together again.  
  
So, crawling up to settle at Ephram’s side, bringing him into a firm embrace, Freddie kissed his lover gently now, parting his lips to pass the mouthful of cum to his witch. Sucking lightly at his tongue, and then pulling back again, shaking his head and still holding him close.  
  
“Sweetheart, you don’t ever need to thank me for loving you,” Freddie told him softly. “Because when I say that you’re the only thing in the world that I can’t do without, Ephram, I mean it. You’re the only thing I always want; the only thing I need.”  
  
“And I know how hard that is to believe in, darling - I know it better than anyone - but it’s the truest thing I’ve ever been able to say.”  
  
The fairy rubbed his face against his husband’s temple, just breathing him him. “I love you,” he murmured.  
  
“I’ll love you for the rest of my life.”  
  
The warm mouthful of his own cum slipped from Freddie’s lips to Ephram’s like it was life-giving, ritualistic, a prayer closed with the way that Freddie softly drew Ephram’s lax tongue forward and then surrendered it. There was always something holy about this moment when they were spent in each others’ arms, Freddie knowing exactly how to hold Ephram safe and tight and Ephram knowing to give his boy all the praise in the world. They didn’t need much, really, no matter that Freddie would have claimed otherwise for himself and Ephram might go along with it a little, both of them enjoying the construct of Freddie’s high-maintenance fairyhood.  
  
But at moments like this, with Freddie telling Ephram in that completely certain, soft voice that Ephram was loved and needed and would continue to be so until they’d both passed from this world, everything distilled down to what they truly, honestly needed. And that was the love that the other could give them, somehow tailored by the generally fucked-in-the-head fates to heal instead of harm.  
  
“I believe you,” Ephram said, simply, letting the words lie between them without any embellishment. He did, was the crazy part of it – lying there with his husband’s arms around him and those glorious wings slowly stirring the air above them, Ephram for once found it easy to believe that he could be enough for somebody he loved. That he could have filled up a heart so lonely and starved as his darling fairy’s, that they could find themselves here.  
  
“And I love you too. I will forever.” Ephram smiled wearily then, curling against Freddie. “Now say something less sentimental, dumplin’, afore we finds ourselves drowning in sugar sap.”  
  
Freddie felt his breath catch when Ephram said that he believed him with no waver in his voice, no indication that he was pushing himself to do so, and he smiled, nearly undone by the happiness he felt, the deep radiating peace of being precisely where he belonged, kissing his sweetheart again, the word ‘forever’ still resonating in his ears.  
  
Ephram’s instruction that he say something less sentimental however, made him laugh, and he bit his husband’s lip playfully before settling them down into the sort of position that would be comfortable for sleeping should the fatigue of their labours get the better of them.  
  
“I suppose since I’ve already nearly drowned you in cum, that’s fair,” the fairy grinned tiredly. “We’re likely going to be glued together in the morning…” Freddie reached down and gave his balls a gentle squeeze, huffing out a contented sort of chuckle. “If I weren’t a fairy, I’d be a bloody husk by now.”  
  
Crinkling his nose, Ephram complained, “Shit, you took my wanting something less sappy to heart, huh? A goddamn _husk_ , eugh.” Softening into a more genuine expression, Ephram smiled at Freddie in the fucked-out way that meant there were no defenses up, not even unconscious ones. “Although I like that bit about you drownin’ me in your cum. Mmmmmm, that sounds good.” He stretched out one leg with a surprised moue of pain, snorting at himself for having forgotten how to move or not move after being pounded like a whore. “Fuck, honey – you sure gave it to me good,” Ephram said, delicately running his middle fingertip along the stretched-shiny, wet entrance of his cunt.  
  
Kissing Freddie as his fingertip skated feather-light over beaten and bruised flesh, Ephram murmured, “…could we maybe get room service? I know we had that huge supper and it’s late now but after all that, sweetheart, I could use the refuel. And I want cocoa and grilled cheese. Maybe a doughnut.” A perfect meal if you happened to be in middle school, but Ephram didn’t care. If it was what he wanted, his Freddie would find a way to get it for him. After all, hadn’t Freddie gotten him the Empire State Building?  
  
Freddie laughed lightly again, pulling a bit of a face and giving his witch a little pinch. “Oh, sod off,” he said, “I’m too shagged out at the moment for erudition.”  
  
“And besides,” the fairy teased, “-you’re the one who told me to stop being sentimental anyway, so really, it’s your own fault. I’m afraid in this sort of afterglow, my darling,” he chuckled, “-you either get hearts-and-flowers, or Cockney crudity. All my other settings are still being rebooted.”  
  
Freddie grinned a bit smugly though when Ephram discovered that a certain amount of gingerness was going to be required for at least the rest of the night, once he set about shifting positions and brought his fingers to his rawed little pussy, praising Freddie for the damage he’d done.  
  
“It was my pleasure, love,” the fairy rumbled, still smiling, into the kiss when it came - and when Ephram asked for room service, that smile only got wider, and Freddie nodded, huffing out a fondly enchanted little chuckle. “‘Course we can,” he said, carefully extricating himself from around and under Ephram’s body, before stretching for the phone and the appropriate menu where they sat on the nightstand.  
  
“Whatever you want, sweetheart,” he said, dialing. And he gave Ephram a cheeky little wink as he waited for Room Service to answer. “I’m feeling a little bit peckish myself.”  
  
Ordering two napoléon de fromage with crème de truffe, and the accompanying bowls of roasted tomato soup (whether they would eat them or not was beside the point; it was nice to have the option), along with an order of warm cinnamon beignets with berry jus crème fraiche, and calvados honey sauce, finally adding a cup of tea for himself, and a hot chocolate - “Sharpish, please; thank-you, darling” - Freddie hung up the phone, tossed it aside, and settled back against the pillows again; happy for Ephram to cuddle up if he wanted to, or to stretch out if he preferred. “On it’s way,” he said.  
  
And then he reached out, eyes sparkling, and gave Ephram’s nearest nipple a little tug, teasing, “So tell me, Ephram, are you enjoying New York so far?”  
  
“ _Eh-ru-disshion_ , he says!” Ephram crowed, replying to the pinch with an amused shove. “Sounds like you still got your grip on your fancy words there, Mr. Man o'the World. But I like hearing you be crude. You got a voice made for wooing and for cussin’ and a body could listen to you go on either all day.” Really it was awful how much the two of them went on about each other, in heaps of seemingly endless praise, but Ephram didn’t care on a regular basis and certainly not here in this bed in this city. After so many close calls and brushes with being separated, they mutually felt that if their honeymoon phase went on forever, then so be it. With all the accompanying traditional rhapsodic waxing.  
  
Freddie seemed utterly delighted when Ephram wanted food, putting on a preening little show of sitting up and hailing Room Service while Ephram took the opportunity to make a quick stop in the washroom. He got back just as Freddie was finishing up, having missed all of the scaled-up versions of Ephram’s requested menu, and got back into the bed to adhere himself to Freddie’s side again and get the update on the imminent arrival of a meal. “Oh, good,” Ephram sighed, his stomach rumbling at the thought. Had Freddie’s joy been because he got a chance to feed and take care of Ephram? Was it because Ephram actually asked for room service instead of pretending he didn’t (badly) want it? Whatever the reason was, so long as he could make Freddie happy – even if he had no clue in what way – Ephram was content. “And if I know you there’s gonna be some extra item you ordered, and I am a hundred percent fine with that. I could eat a lion.”  
  
He grinned at his small joke, gave a short yap of sensation when Freddie touched him, and then his smile stretched even wider at his fairy’s question. “It’s more … more everything than I ever thought it might be,” Ephram declared, his own eyes shining despite the weary pouches starting to form under them. “A lot of that’s you, of course, honey. Wouldn’t be like this if you wasn’t the one brought me here.” They paused for a kiss, lingering and soft as Ephram folded his fingers to link with Freddie’s hand. “Feels like the whole city’s shimmerin’ with fairy dust.”  
  
Since he’d already been to the head, Ephram was going to get up to answer the door when its polite tap-tap intervened in their conversation, but Freddie pressed him back down with an indulgent laugh as he got up and a glamoured robe swirled around his body. “Oh, right,” Ephram chuckled, sitting up some (it took a little doing, what with the sting and stretch down there) and feeling his mouth start to water when Freddie came back with a series of silver cloches. His dramatic husband began revealing the plates, and Ephram stared in astonishment as delicacy after delicacy came visible. He looked up at Freddie, then back down at the food, then burst into laughter. “Cockney crudity, he says!” Ephram hooted, reaching out his hands for Freddie to give him some soup. “Face it, sugarplum – you’re hearts-and-flowers no matter what.” He gazed fondly at his fairy, resisting the desire to surge out of bed himself and climb up onto Freddie and kiss him into insensibility, instead asking, “Y'think Ollie would want some?”  
  
In truth, there were a number of reasons that Ephram’s request for room service made Freddie as happy as it did. He loved seeing his sweetheart relax into the comforts that his money afforded. Loved seeing Ephram embrace and accept that these things were his to have if he wanted them; losing, even temporarily, his grip on the long-held belief that he was hillbilly trash, and that at any moment, the rest of the world would turn on him for having the gall to expect to be treated like a person.  
  
Freddie loved any and every opportunity to care for his husband and provide for him.  
  
Because the fairy had guarded fiercely his childhood memories of what it felt like to be truly taken care of; the painful truth that the love he’d thought he had as little boy hadn’t been real notwithstanding. He’d wrapped himself, at his lowest moments, in the recollection of that warmth, that certainty of safety - and he wanted to be able to give it to Ephram now. He wanted, despite his fickle fairy-ness, his selfishness, to be capable of giving it.  
  
So much so, that even something as seemingly small and simple as a request for a grilled cheese sandwich filled Freddie with a burst of pride at having been asked; at having been relied upon to meet those kinds of needs.  
  
At Ephram’s belief in him.  
  
Which was silly, maybe. Soppy and sentimental and an enormous stretch of the symbolic - but Freddie didn’t care in the slightest. It felt wonderful.  
  
As wonderful as the look in Ephram’s eyes as he talked about New York, cuddled close and kissing Freddie softly, their fingers laced together.  
  
 _This was heaven_ , the fairy thought. If Ephram’s God existed, then this was the Heaven that Freddie wanted to be sent to.  
  
The food arrived with the sort of efficient expediency that was the hallmark of very good hotels the world over, and Freddie got up to fetch it, sending its bearer off with a good tip, and returning to bed with the rather large tray; unveiling the dishes and carefully passing Ephram a bowl of soup as they set about picnicking, naked and suddenly ravenous.  
  
“I can think of worse things to be than hearts-and-flowers,” Freddie chuckled. “I mean, you don’t seem to mind it, given the way you were shouting the place down as I fucked you-” he shot his witch a wicked little grin, “-so I think I’ll just keep on as I am, yeah? It appears to be working for me.”  
  
The fairy reached for a sandwich and dipped the corner into his bowl, still smiling. “I also think that if I go in there and wake Oliver up - even with the offer of a cheese toastie - I’ll live to regret it…” Freddie took a bite, making a small appreciative sound as he chewed, then carried on, “-but you, he may actually forgive for buggering up his beauty sleep. So I’ll let the choice be yours, love.”  
  
“Because there’s really no winning here,” he laughed gently, taking another bite, “Either we wake the sleeping dragon, or we explain to it in the morning that it missed out on a midnight snack…”  
  
Ephram considered this for a moment as he eschewed a spoon altogether and drank his soup straight from the bowl in measured slurps. “I probably could take 'im some food without it being too much of a disturbance,” he decided when his bowl was empty, taking Freddie’s hand and the piece of sandwich he was holding to swipe it clean of every trace of tomato soup and bite off that bit for himself. Chewing busily, Ephram cut up some of his own sandwich and a beignet onto one of the pretty, scalloped dishes included on the tray, and gave Freddie a smacking kiss before getting up and heading to the other suite where Ollie was snoozing.  
  
It wasn’t long before he was back, grinning wide and amused. “Turns out,” Ephram said, climbing back onto the bed to snuggle against Freddie before attending to his sandwich again, “the dragon wasn’t all that asleep. He’s got hearing good enough that me screamin’ fit to beat the band kept 'im up.” He copied Freddie and dipped his sandwich in Freddie’s soup, having no compunctions about helping himself – his darling husband never had complained about Ephram’s food-thieving ways before and he certainly wouldn’t now – adding, “…but hey, he’s been your familiar for all your life. Ain’t like he don’t know what you’re like when you wanna fuck.”  
  
Lounging against Freddie with his legs stretched gingerly out, Ephram started in on the beignets, happily licking pear-soaked honey from his fingers as they turned berry-red. “There’s one lil problem though, dumplin'. Considering how this trip started out, with you showing me the most crazy meal of my life and then buying us time on the Empire State Building – the Empire _State_! – and how you screwed my brains out the whole time, what the hell are you gonna do to top that?”  
  
Freddie laughed when Ephram returned, both announcing Ollie’s wakefulness and adorably helping himself to Freddie’s soup in the same moment. “Which is precisely why I assumed he’d have his head buried under a pile of cushions, having willed himself into a coma,” the fairy grinned. “He’ll have had to put up with my panting after you all night - being able to feel it in a roundabout way - so I’m sure he’ll be up bright and early tomorrow morning to huff and wither at me.”  
  
“And I mean, why shouldn’t he?” Freddie chuckled, “He’s on holiday too, after all - so he may as well spend it enjoying his hobbies.”  
  
Comfortably splayed out in bed, Ephram’s weight, warm and lovely, pressed against him, Freddie rerouted his witch’s second beignet towards his own mouth, chewing contentedly as Ephram asked after what he had in mind for the rest of their time in the city, and then giving his lover’s ear an affectionate little nip when he was done. “Oh, I have to top it now, do I?” the fairy teased.  
  
Freddie cuddled his husband closer, burying his face in the curve of Ephram’s neck and shoulder, and nuzzled at him happily.  
  
“I don’t think you should worry about it, sweetheart,” he murmured. “New York is full of all sorts of interesting things to get up to, so I’m sure I should be able to keep you entertained.”  
  
He grinned again. “Especially since I intend to keep screwing your brains out at every possible opportunity…”  
  
“Mmmmmm.” Ephram finished his beignet and set about licking sugary cinnamon from his thumb before pressing two of his fingers into Freddie’s mouth. “Reckon I got some brain left for you to deal with, but only just barely. You do a mighty thorough job when you set yourself to it, darlin'.” He grinned, knowing this was not at all the high level of praise that Freddie was due for his amorous prowess, but occasionally liking to tease the lion. Because then either Freddie got puffed up in indignation and outdid himself, or he subsided into sulky pouting and Ephram got to pet and reassure him.  
  
Win-win, as most of their interactions seemed to be.  
  
“Okay so here’s the things I know about what to do in New York,” Ephram said, taking his fingers back and sucking on them himself before counting on them. “Strawberry Fields, that museum from Night at the Museum, that place with the ice rink, Famous Ray pizza, annnnnnd that’s about it. I think. There’s bound to be more only I can’t recall em.”  
  
With a little chuckle, Ephram smoothed Freddie’s hair back and kissed his forehead. “Stuff you got planned is like to be miles more fancy than that, huh?” he surmised. “We can mix em up. I love when you take me to rich places and show me off, but I really wanna see what’s so all-darn great about that pizza, too, oh! And them delis, I forget the names.”  
  
Freddie sucked Ephram’s fingers clean, then bit them gently, teasingly, in protest, when his husband cheerfully told him that he was capable of a thorough job of fucking when he set his mind to it.  
  
“Thorough?” the fairy repeated incredulously, knowing he was being wound up, but huffing petulantly all the same. “I’ll show you bloody thorough…”  
  
“…set that flaming hitch back in your step before we leave for breakfast in the morning…”  
  
He huffed again, settling back, a bit theatrically sulky, into the pillows - then promptly allowed himself to be distracted away from his pout by his sweetheart’s New York wish list. “We’ll go to the park tomorrow,” he promised. “But which museum is that one, darling? I don’t think I saw that film…”  
  
“I was hoping to make it to both the Met and the Museum of Modern Art, if we could - but I’m happy to put those off until next time, too. I mean, the city isn’t going anywhere.” Freddie grinned. “And we’re a bit late for the ice rink, but Rockefeller Centre is easy enough to accomplish - I’ll just have to bring you back when it snows, yeah?”  
  
The fairy dug his fingers teasingly into his darling’s side, “And your pizza can be tomorrow’s midnight snack. I’ll even go fetch it for you myself…” He trailed off with a smile when Ephram pushed back his hair and kissed his forehead though, nodding, because his husband knew him so very well.  
  
“It is, yeah,” he chuckled, “Most of it, any road. But I quite like the idea of taking turns.” The cheeky wink he tacked on at the end wasn’t necessary, but he did it all the same.  
  
“We’ll google which is the best of those delis though. No sense settling for less.”  
  
“I like when you threaten me,” Ephram said comfortably as Freddie fumed, snuggling against his husband even more. “It’s so cute. And then I git to pet you and fuss over you until your feelings ain’t so hurt.” He kissed the rounded curve of Freddie’s well-built shoulder. “My idea of a fun time to be honest.”  
  
That, and teasing Freddie like this distracted Ephram from the icy-hot flare of desire in his belly when Freddie threatened to fuck him out ragged again.  
  
“Natural something? Science? History? We can figure it out.” Ephram nodded at Freddie’s suggestions, asking, “What they got at the Met?”  
  
Ephram crinkled his nose at Freddie when his fairy indulged himself in some double entendre, giving him another more lingering kiss. “I don’t wanna stop doing fancy things. So yeah, we’re taking turns. Although I expect to be the only one getting set on his back this entire trip.” Ephram stretched, yawning and smiling. “After getting it three times in one day while also seeing the city, you spoiled me beyond repair.”  
  
Freddie harumphed pettishly, mimicking almost exactly the same noise made by his familiar when the little Chin was fussed; but he smiled in spite of himself when Ephram cuddled closer, still teasing, to kiss at him; good-naturedly grumbling, “Well, I do like to be petted and fussed over…”  
  
“Got me wrapped round your little finger, haven’t you?” the fairy teased back, leaning in to take a page from Ephram’s own book and rubbing his nose playfully against his darling’s cheek. “And you know it.”  
  
It was lovely to just lie there and banter plans and ideas back and forth; and Freddie smiled, nodding his head in understanding - his memory jogged - when Ephram searched for the name of the museum he wanted to see. “Of course,” he said, “It’s natural history, yeah? We can go there if you like, sweetheart; sure. Anything you want to do.”  
  
And then he grinned at his husband’s question about the Met. “It’s full of art too,” he admitted; then laughed, “My bias is showing. But there’s a pair of exhibitions there at the moment that I’d love to see. One is a collection of nudes by Klimt, Schiele, and Picasso, and the other inspired the theme of the Met Gala this year.”  
  
Ephram pulled an adorable face when Freddie indulged in a little juvenile humour, then kissed him long and slow, sending a delicious pulse of languorous desire radiating through the fairy’s body. And Freddie nodded once Ephram had pulled back to yawn and stretch, letting out a soft but hungry growl of agreement with his witch’s expectations.  
  
“You’re lucky you’re not getting set on your back right now,” he rumbled, holding Ephram just a little bit tighter, eyes shining wickedly. “I already told you - I intend to be horrifically greedy with you this weekend, love. I’m going to have you every chance I get.”  
  
Freddie grinned, though the length of the day was showing in his face now too. “I mean, you think three times today is spoiling you - but just think what I’ll be able to accomplish tomorrow when I don’t get off to such a late start.”  
  
He kissed Ephram on the nose, then gave his husband’s behind a little pat. “Now clear these dishes away and let’s get some sleep, yeah?”  
  
“We’re getting up early tomorrow.”  
  
“So Natural History and the Met,” Ephram decided. “I wouldn’t mind seein’ both.”  
  
His demand to be the one getting dicked was met with wholehearted agreement from Freddie, who declared with thrilling authority and ownership that he was going to be fucking Ephram whenever the desire overtook him, promising ravagement the sort of which Ephram had never been offered. “Don’t,” he murmured to Freddie’s boasting. “I already think you’s the handsomest man on the planet. This just makes it that much worse, I’ll never get you off my mind.”  
  
The command that followed, Ephram obeyed without protest, enjoying every bit of Freddie bossing him around. It wasn’t as if Freddie wasn’t bossy back in their real life, especially since he knew Ephram would do damn near anything for him, but in New York it was – like everything else – different. It was more like Ephram was _expected_ to provide Freddie any service he desired.  
  
It made his entire body prickle in anticipation.  
  
Ephram did as he was told, shifting the dishes back onto their cart and pushing it out away from the bed before crawling back under the sheets. “I could ask you why we gotta get up early, but I’d rather find out naturally, at that,” he yawned again, then settled against Freddie’s broad chest. “Ain’t no way I could be disappointed, anyhow.” Ephram dozed for about half a minute, and then woke up enough to say, “…unless I don’t wake up with you already fucking that beautiful cock into me tomorrow morning. Love you g'night.”  
  
And with that, sleep overtook them both.  
  
As it happened, since Freddie’s entire impetus to rise early was in service to setting the tone for the day with a long slow bone-melting fuck, he rather took Ephram’s suggestion to heart. And the moment he’d opened his eyes, stretching subtly under the warm weight of his darling’s sleeping body, he’d begun, with greedy hands, to avail himself of its delights, before finally slipping out from under him.  
  
Ephram could be a very sound sleeper when put through his paces and worn properly out, and Freddie had taken wholehearted advantage of that fact, tugging the bedclothes out of the way and spreading Ephram’s already sleep-splayed legs, before bending his head. Using his mouth to get his husband sloppy-wet and ready, Ephram’s sleepy little mumbles of pleasure going straight to the fairy’s own cock.  
  
A few determined strokes as he worked his tongue into Ephram’s ass were all Freddie’d needed to bring himself to aching hardness, and he’d pushed inside his witch with a low moan of loving satisfaction; rolling his hips slow and steady, pushing deep, until Ephram came awake and began to push back.  
  
There was no hurry, and Freddie took his time, bringing Ephram’s body to the trembling brink of orgasm and dangling him there, more than once, before allowing him to cum; finally turning his sweetheart over onto his back and finishing himself off with a breathless growl. He shot his load - the sort of hot thick jets of spunk that would have made a porn director’s day (fairy dust replenished things at a lovely rate) - all over Ephram’s chest and stomach, before smiling and leaning down to kiss him softly, conscious of their morning breath.  
  
“Good morning, my darling,” Freddie murmured, blue eyes sparkling in the early morning sunshine, “Did you sleep well?”  
  
Ephram had no such compunctions about morning breath and pulled Freddie in, the still-hot ribbons of cum on his torso making them slide like seals against each other. “I slept like a hog what got in a melon patch,” he mumbled happily, stretching and wrapping Freddie in his arms. His hole still felt open and used; Freddie’d prepped him right so that the wake-up fuck would start before Ephram was fully aware, which was something he loved with his fairy, but there was definitely some gape there from the night before. “Good thing you got me all ready for this yesterday,” Ephram smiled, prodding Freddie’s side. “Thank god for fairy stamina.” It wasn’t as if Ephram was a slouch when it came to perseverance, but after being fucked three times and then edged and fucked while he was still waking up, Freddie was the clear winner.  
  
Ducking down a little, Ephram licked some of the transferred spunk from Freddie’s chest, sucking on a nipple before moving back up and tugging the sheet over them; a small doggie huff at the doorway had alerted him of His Highness Ollie’s determination not to spend the entire time in New York confined to wherever he could avoid his fairy having copious amounts of sex. “Aww, don’t be like that, it’s a vacation,” Ephram wheedled, then patted the space between him and his husband. “C'mon up here, settle in. We can spend some quality family time.”  
  
Ollie looked like he’d rather die and instead jumped up on a magnificent slipper chair that faced one of the suite’s televisions, head lifted imperiously as he waited. Ephram looked at Freddie, utterly charmed, and said sotto voce, “I love my two little prissy fusspots so much,” before turning on the tv and leaving it on HBO for the familiar.  
  
Freddie laughed as Ephram pulled him in for a proper kiss - the two of them filthy with cum in an instant - and went willingly and happily into his witch’s embrace, pleased by Ephram’s loose-limbed satisfaction, and the carefree relaxation in his eyes and features. “Isn’t it though?” the fairy chuckled when Ephram poked at his side, “I’m the very picture of consideration, me.” And when his darling praised his stamina, he couldn’t help but preen a little, unable to deny the way his ego purred to know that his husband felt so very well seen to.  
  
Freddie groaned softly in appreciation as Ephram lapped some of the semen from his chest, his sweetheart lavishing enough attention on one nipple to tighten the other one as well - and he was tempted for a moment to straddle Ephram’s chest, in the hopes of tempting him into sucking a bit at his foreskin, being in a playfully greedy sort of mood. But when Ollie huffed from the door, Freddie could only laugh and roll his eyes, rolling off of Ephram at the same time, and dragging the sheet up over them again.  
  
That Oliver was having none of it, when Ephram attempted to placate him, came as no surprise; and Freddie grinned, pulling a face, as he and the little Chin were both labelled prissy fusspots whilst his witch turned on HBO. “Prissy fusspots?” the fairy repeated, “Us?” - as though it wasn’t an absolutely spot-on assessment. “You’ll be saying we’re high maintenance next…”  
  
He leaned over and nuzzled at Ephram’s ear, sucking the lobe into his mouth to nibble on for a moment before murmuring, “But we love you too.” Then, pulling back, he looked over at his familiar, calling, “What about you though? Are you coming with us today?”  
  
Ollie turned, giving Freddie a very pointed look and an affectionately derisive sort of snort, and the fairy rolled his eyes again. “I’m not promising a bloody thing,” he said with a smirk, “-but I’ll give you fair warning, yeah? Time to avert your eyes and relocate if I don’t think that I can properly control myself?”  
  
The little Chin considered this, deemed it acceptable, then let out a long-suffering snuff, giving Ephram a fondly withering look of his own before turning back to the television, settling in to wait until his fairy and witch were ready to go down to breakfast.  
  
“Right then,” Freddie said, turning back to Ephram with a smile, “-time for you to get that delectable arse of yours into the shower, yeah? I’ll take care of everything else whilst you clean up.”  
  
He kissed Ephram on the mouth again - morning breath be damned - then gave his darling a little nudge to get him moving. “So go on then,” he grinned, “Off you trot.”  
  
“Admit it, Freddie,” Ephram laughed as he got out of bed, “Ollie’s got your number. You can’t be trusted to properly control yourself.” Yawning, he stretched his arms over his head, rocking back on his heels as muscles righted themselves and joints cracked back into place, cum still adorning his chest and stomach and thighs. It smeared under Ephram’s long fingers as he idly rubbed his chest, leaning down compulsively to kiss his husband again. “But then again, I can’t rightly control myself when it comes to you neither,” Ephram admitted with a grin, and then sauntered off to the shower.  
  
As much as he wouldn’t have minded Freddie joining him – the danged thing was big enough to fit five more people – Ephram also knew how much pleasure his fairy took in selecting what the witch should wear for the day. And Ephram never had any real objections; Freddie had considerately made the effort to learn Ephram’s own taste (such as it was) before making changes, so he always took that into account.  
  
Happy to spend some time under the warm water kneading the kinks from his muscles, Ephram washed and aggressively conditioned his hair, filled his mouth with water and spat it out a few times, tested each setting on the showerheads including the ones that jetted straight out from the wall, and indulged himself in caterwauling _New York, New York_ at the top of his lungs. By the time he climbed out to dry himself, the bathroom was fogged up entirely despite the earnestly whirring fan, and he opened the door before wrapping the towel around his waist and going to the sink to brush his teeth.  
  
“Babe,” Ephram called around his toothbrush, “should Ollie and me go down first? They ain’t gonna make a fuss bout us bringin’ him into the, uh … restaurant? Dining area? Whichever.” He poked his head out to address Ollie directly. “Sorry, Highness. Just making sure nothin’ embarrassing happens.” He doubted it would – why would Freddie book a hotel where Ollie wouldn’t be welcome? – but Ephram’s pesky impostor syndrome had to peep out now and again in peculiar spots before he could stop it. Someday, maybe, he wouldn’t need the reassurance that he was allowed into nice places without being spotted out as a lesser being, but he wasn’t quite there yet.  
  
Freddie looked on admiringly from the bed as Ephram stretched - conspicuously smirkingly silent on the subject of his own willpower, as he knew he had none - and smiled into his husband’s kiss when it came, giving Ephram’s arse a quick grope before his witch headed off to the loo. “Course you can’t,” he teased, “I’m bloody irresistible.”  
  
And when his darling had gone, and the shower began to run, the fairy finally sat up, wiping himself off as best he could with the sheet, and then hauling himself out of bed. Laughing, as the strains of ‘New York, New York’ by way of Apple Fall, Kentucky, could be heard faintly from the bathroom.  
  
He caught Ollie’s eye, the little Chin wearing a fond expression of his own at the music, then set about collecting his and Ephram’s clothes for the day, and texting their driver with a loose sort of itinerary.  
  
He was just re-examining the shirt he’d decided on for himself, unsure whether he wanted something just a little bit different, when Ephram called for him - and he abandoned the decision entirely in favour of gathering his husband’s things again and delivering to the bathroom, arriving at the door just as his darling’s shaggy blond head peered out into the suite to lock eyes with Oliver, who conceded the question as proportionally relevant, given that they’d only just begun to travel together and Ephram was still getting used to things.  
  
“If you like, love,” Freddie said with a smile, handing over Ephram’s clothes, “Ollie’ll be perfectly welcome in the Grand Salon, and the two of you can help yourselves to coffee and pastries until I’m ready.”  
  
The fairy leaned in and gave his sweetheart a kiss, before laying his hand over his own heart with a cheeky grin. “I promise I’ll go as fast as I can, yeah?”  
  
“Fast as you can means you’ll only change your shirt five times and your trousers twice.” Ephram grinned back, then put on the clothes that Freddie had selected for him. More casual this time although still very smart, with little personal touches here and there that were a combination of Ephram’s own tastes and Freddie’s consummate skill at offering more refined versions of those tastes. Ephram liked it very much. Because of how he’d grown up, wearing church donation bin cast-offs and all other sorts of hand-me-downs, none of his clothes had ever seemed special, even the few articles he prized above the rest. The leather cowboy boots his momma had given him and said was from his daddy, and the horseshoe ring his daddy actually had gave him, those were the only things that spoke to Ephram’s heart.  
  
Just about everything Freddie got for Ephram spoke to his heart.  
  
That sounded sappy, but when you knew how much fashion choices meant to Freddie, you knew what it meant that he took as much care with you as with himself. So Ephram dressed, combed his hair, dabbed on some cologne and fastened his watch as he headed for the door. “C'mon, Ollie,” he said, “you know he’ll be more pleased with himself if he can make a grand entrance all gussied up in some way to surprise us.” The little Chin made the whuffing noise that Ephram had come to associate with faintly derisive amusement at his fairy’s expense, and it took Freddie saying, “Oi – should I tell Ephram the extensive list of must-haves when it comes to your grooming?” before Ollie hustled his bedroom slipper self out the suite and into the elevator.  
  
As Freddie predicted, nobody in the Grand Salon batted an eyelash at Ollie, although perhaps a couple of lashes stirred the air when Ephram opened his mouth to speak to the person working the omelette station. He wasn’t even getting an omelette, but she was on the way to the elaborate sugar-laminated danish and so he stopped to chit-chat. Fortunately, Ephram moved on with a prompt from Oliver, getting them both pastries, with coffee for himself and water for the familiar while they people-watched.  
  
“So,” Ephram said to Ollie after he’d eaten a fig cream cheese danish and half a passionfruit-glazed brioche, “reckon you’re the one to ask, for if I’m wantin’ to marry Freddie.” He waved one hand, saying, “I know, I know – he’s my husband in every way that counts, but when it comes down to it, I’m a lawman. And I want us to have that piece of paper, all signed and official and I want him to know that it ain’t only his body and soul I want him for…” Ephram touched his fingers to his throat, the place where Freddie would be wearing the green magic collar, “…I want him for _everybody_ to know. I want him legal and right and official. I’ll treat him good, I promise, Oliver.” Ephram stroked his hand over Ollie’s head the same way he did Freddie’s, cupping the little dog’s skull at the back. “I want him to only ever know what it’s like to belong to somebody from now on and to never, _never_ doubt it.”  
  
Ollie had watched with a fond sort of amusement as Ephram had stopped to pass the time of day with the young woman running the omelette station - she, for her part, had seemed as surprised as anyone that he’d stopped to chat, just blinking at him for a moment before smiling and greeting him in return. But when the little Chin had noticed a few of the other guests’ heads turning, he’d given a discreet little snuff to get his friend moving again, and then looked around pointedly as if daring anyone to judge. Quite happy to bite an ankle or two and let Freddie sort it out later.  
  
But nothing came of it, and once they’d seated themselves - Ollie enjoying his spring water and his bichon au citron whilst Ephram made his way through his coffee and danish; Freddie still nowhere to be seen (surprise, surprise) - Oliver could honestly say that the last thing he’d expected was for Ephram to begin to explain what the little familiar assumed had to be a newfound desire to make Freddie his husband in an official and legally-binding capacity. And for a moment, he was so surprised that he just stared at the witch with a bit of lemon curd on his nose, unsure if he’d heard him properly.  
  
But as Ephram went on, clearly serious and having given this some thought, Ollie recovered himself, licked his nose clean, and gazed at his friend with as much love and approval as he could manage to articulate without the benefit of a sharing a soul to make communication easier.  
  
But he wasn’t above getting a bit creative when the situation called for it.  
  
So when Ephram’s hand came down on his head, the witch pledging to treat his fairy well, wanting Freddie to never again experience any doubt about his value or his place in the world - wanting Freddie to know that he would always belong to Ephram - Ollie offered his best smile, and, dignity be damned, hopped from his own seat into Ephram’s lap. He stood up on his hind legs, front paws against his friend’s chest peering into his eyes…  
  
And then he licked his face, letting out a doggy-sounding snuff of laughter at the soppiness of the whole thing.  
  
And he was still standing there like a tit when Freddie finally arrived - in an entirely different outfit than the first one he’d chosen; fresh, and fragrant, and without a hair out of place. Though the fairy paused at the table to goggle at the sight before him for a moment, before murmuring with a bewildered chuckle, “Are you two drunk on mimosas? I feel as though I’ve missed something…”  
  
There were times with Ollie where it was extremely hard not to ‘awwwww’ over him the way you would with a regular dog, and that dab of lemon curd was definitely one of those times. It only made Ephram’s heart swell up even more with love and adoration at the thought of having the familiar in his life, of Oliver’s presence being part and parcel of Freddie’s beloved presence. And having spent quite a lot of time with Ollie over the last couple of years, Ephram felt the warmth and approval, the love that Ollie radiated out to him.  
  
That would have been enough – Ollie could make himself quite clear when the situation called for it – but the surprise of suddenly finding his face being licked by the usually intently proper Chin made him laugh along with Ollie, wrapping his arms around the sturdy little body balancing in his lap. And of course Freddie chose that moment to arrive, a queen of the highest order when it came to the dramatic entrance, and Ollie gave his fairy a subpar (for him) withering glance before returning to his own seat.  
  
Ephram got up too, moving over to pull Freddie’s chair out for him and get a whiff of his husband’s delicious scent, dizzily fall in love with him all over again. He’d never get tired of this, he knew. Every new day bringing with it a new reason to gather Freddie closer into his heart and be gathered in return. “Kitten,” Ephram said, and then – though he hadn’t planned it that way – he found himself bending knee as he took Freddie’s hands in his own. It was fitting, anyhow, to go down on one knee when you were proposing to royalty, wasn’t it?

  
“What?” Freddie laughed as Ollie gave him a half-arsed long-suffering look whilst returning to his own seat, “…you’re the one making a spectacle of himself at the breakfast table, mate, not me.” And he smiled as Ephram pulled his own chair out, always pleased by his darling’s little chivalrous impulses, and kissing his witch’s cheek before sitting down.  
  
But before he could situate himself at the table and reach for the menu that had been held back for him, Ephram was calling him ‘kitten’ and sinking to one knee in front of him. Taking the fairy’s hands and gazing up at him with the sort of love in his eyes that never failed to steal Freddie’s breath.  
  
“Freddie,” Ephram said, completely unaware and for once not giving a good goddamn if anybody was watching, “I want us to git married. For legal and proper, I want you like that. Mine by your own consent, the word of law, and the grace of God. Every way I can have you, for the rest of our lives.” He brought Freddie’s knuckles to his lips, kissing them gently as he gazed up at his lovely, unmatchable fairy. “Tell me yes, baby. Tell me you will.”  
  
“Ephram…” Freddie breathed, his voice barely audible as he stared down into the depths of that blue with his own rush of helpless incredible love, “Ephram, what are you-”  
  
But Ephram had already begun to render the question moot with the sort of beautiful heartfelt proposal that romantics built their dreams on.  
  
And Freddie was stunned. He was speechless. Because they’d always maintained that they didn’t need a ceremony, or a bit of paperwork, to be married; to have pledged themselves to one another, now and forever - and they didn’t. They didn’t need it. But to hear Ephram say those things, to know that the man that he loved so desperately wanted that; that he wanted to make Freddie his in all the ways that were possible, to claim him as his one and only love in front of the God he believed in, and the law that he served and upheld, and the world at large… well.  
  
Freddie realised, in that moment, that he wanted all of that too. He wanted it more than he’d ever thought possible.  
  
So he watched as Ephram kissed his knuckles - having forgotten entirely that there was anyone else in the room - his chest aching and his eyes wet, a very large lump of joy lodged firmly in his throat; and when his lover looked to him for an answer, the fairy beamed, a few stray tears leaking from the corners of his eyes. “Yes,” he said thickly, radiantly, “Yes, of course, I will.”  
  
He pulled Ephram up and slid his arms around his witch’s neck, kissing him deeply, and then kissing him again. “Yes, I’ll marry you. I’ll do anything for you. I love you so much, sweetheart…”  
  
“ _Yes_.”  
  
Freddie’s yes brought a smattering from applause from people whose attention had been drawn (plus one enthusiastic yelp of congratulations from the omelette station girl), but Ephram was only peripherally aware of them. It wasn’t as if he’d thought there was a possibility of a no, but the look in Freddie’s eyes and the sound of his voice, saying yes not just once but over and over – that was something that Ephram would keep folded safe in his heart for whenever he needed it.  
  
They kissed for a little while more, and then Ephram urged Freddie gently back down into his seat and re-took his own. “I really am starving,” he said apologetically, but through a pleased, sunny smile. “And you agreeing to my proposal only makes me wanna enjoy this trip even more. Which I didn’t think was possible, but now … we’ll belong to each other in a way nobody can say nothin’ about.” Not that Ephram thought anybody was interested in protesting Freddie’s and his relationship; it was really more about themselves, and taking every avenue of pledging their love.  
  
“I’m lucky Ollie here consented to let you marry me,” Ephram told Freddie, only half joking. “But seems I reached his exacting standards of able to keep you safe and happy. And I can’t think of no greater compliment he could pay me.” Ephram looked at the little familiar, reaching over to pour him some more spring water. “I mean after all, you been doing them things for our Freddie his whole life, eh?”  
  
Ephram picked up one of the menus that had been brought to their table as he and Ollie’d waited for Freddie to finish up dressing and join them, gaze warm as he looked at his husband over it. “Gonna be one'a them days in New York again, I bet,” he teased, easily stretching one long leg out under the table to press their ankles together. “Where we spend every minute wanting to git our hands on each other. My handsome feller.”  
  
He’d already been hungry, the appetizing aromas of food in the dining salon serving nicely to whet his normally prodigious appetite, but talking about a more carnal hunger turned Ephram’s thoughts to sex pretty much immediately, his eyes dilating dark and needy. Chuckling, he looked back down at his menu, confessing, “But I better get my mind off how good you look and smell and feel or I’m gonna be crawlin’ up under this table to suck you off before I order breakfast.”  
  
Freddie laughed lightly as Ephram urged him to sit back down, his witch hungry and looking to order breakfast now that he’d accomplished his task, and the fairy nodded. “Of course, love,” he said, taking his seat again, “I didn’t actually expect you to stand there kissing me all day. We’ve got sightseeing to do.” He grinned. “I think I’m still just a bit shocked is all. I mean, I expected tea to be waiting for me when I turned up, not a proposal…”  
  
But he smiled more softly again at the way Ephram characterised the taking of this step in their marriage, and nodded a second time, his voice a warm rumble as he murmured, “Yeah, I quite like the idea of our belonging to one another in every way possible.”  
  
Freddie reached out to brush their fingers together, just stroking Ephram’s for a moment. “May I ask why now though, sweetheart? I mean, what’s brought this on?”  
  
“And how do you want to do it?” he continued curiously, reaching for a menu and flipping it open, eyes sparkling at his husband across the table, “Are you thinking about an actual wedding, or just popping round to the appropriate office to sign the paperwork?”  
  
Settling on Belgian waffles, a cup of Himalayan darjeeling, and a glass of orange juice for himself - along with a side of chicken sausage for Ollie, as the little Chin was still finishing the last of his pastry - Freddie gave a little snort of laughter at the notion of his familiar bestowing his hand on a worthy suitor. And then he thought better of of his mirth, and reached out to give Ollie a stroke, because really, that idea wasn’t so far off the money.  
  
Ephram, after all, was entirely correct - Ollie had taken care of Freddie, single-handedly, for nearly 40 years. The fairy was fundamentally his brother, and his child, all at once - so why shouldn’t Ollie be afforded that respect?  
  
The little Chin glanced at Freddie affectionately, then turned and met Ephram’s eyes, inclining his head and making a soft noise of affirmation - though it was tinged with regret. There had been too many things, in Oliver’s opinion, that he’d been unable to protect his fairy from; things he’d have changed if he could - but then he gifted the witch with a warm gaze, a deep smile evident in his dark round eyes, wanting Ephram to know how very glad he was to have a partner in these endeavours now.  
  
Wanting him to understand the depths of Ollie’s belief in him.  
  
And then the familiar gave one more little efficient little snuff intended to prompt everyone back to their menus - because the day was marching on without them - and returned his attention to his bichon au citron in an effort to lead by example. At which, Freddie chuckled again, ruffling Ollie’s ears gently, before shooting Ephram a flirtatious grin when he felt his darling’s foot find his under the table.  
  
“I think you’re likely right, love,” he replied with a loaded sort of smirk and a wicked gleam in his eyes, “And I don’t know as I’m feeling terribly patient this morning…”  
  
When Ephram, golden and beautiful in this luxurious room, loose-limbed and happy, confessed to his already swelling distraction though, admitting to a desire to get on his knees for Freddie right there, the fairy felt his cock stir in his trousers, very much tempted to tell him to do it. But before he could so much as adjust himself and lean forward, Ollie had jumped up, front paws on the table to glare at each of them in turn. And Freddie laughed, holding up his hands in concession, and then winking at Ephram.  
  
“I don’t fancy crossing him just yet,” he chuckled, nodding at Ollie, “-but we’ll be out of here soon enough.”  
  
The fairy slipped his shoe off under the table and moved his socked foot up between Ephram’s legs, rubbing at him gently; his expression innocent though his eyes were hot.  
  
“Eat up though, love, yeah? You’ll be needing the energy today.”  
  
“I can’t deny it, New York gave me a lil push in realizing how much I want to be proper married.” Ephram ordered smoked salmon eggs benedict plus lingonberry crepes before he started in on another cup of coffee. “Not that it was spur-of-the-moment, mind you. I been mulling over this for a while now. It’s only that being here with you and Ollie, without all the rest of the noise of Soapberry, it gave me some space to really _properly_ settle on it, y'know?”  
  
Ephram knew that Freddie would understand what he meant by 'noise’; the witch loved his town dearly and would hardly ever speak poorly of it, but that was where his entire life was. And that brought with it a spate of personal relationships, job duties, and a million other things that would clamour for his attention. Here, in the Outworld and in the big city with all its bustle and sound, Ephram ironically found the mental breathing room to concentrate and come to a firm decision. One that he realized he wanted with all his heart.  
  
As to the question of a wedding – “Oh, I dunno bout all that.” He inched his chair closer to the table and put his napkin in his lap, leaning on one elbow to smile indulgently at Freddie. “Whatever you want, I reckon, honey. You know if we decide to have a lil wedding ceremony you’d be the one arranging it anyhow, so you might as well be the one to decide. I’ll marry you whichever way.”  
  
Feeling warm at the idea – of Freddie considering the thing itself, how they should do it, which made it all the more real – Ephram returned Ollie’s wistful look of trust and hope, of the love they shared for their fairy and the sorrow over what he’d endured that they’d had no control over. It was a good feeling to have the little familiar on his side, especially considering Ollie’s acerbic nature with people he didn’t like. Which reminded Ephram that one day, he’d have to ask Ollie (in their own truncated shorthand) what the Chin thought about Bahraman. That mythical atronach nanny who’d broken Freddie’s heart worse than even Martin had, in Ephram’s opinion; worse because she was the first, and had taught the fairy child what he was worth – which was nothing. Not even rating a goodbye.  
  
But Ephram didn’t want to get marooned in those thoughts. Certainly not now, with Freddie smirking at him across the table as if he was imagining Ephram in all sorts of compromising positions, especially the one that Ephram himself suggested. Followed almost immediately with the feel of Freddie’s stockinged foot urging on Ephram’s arousal, bringing a slight flush to the witch’s face as the waiter came and delivered the breakfasts they’d ordered.  
  
“Reckon you’re already crossing Ollie’s sense of propriety, what with not being able to stay on your own side.” Ephram picked up his cutlery, slicing off a bigger piece of his eggs than he intended to and cramming it into his mouth to keep from getting any more blushy at Freddie’s insinuating comment. Chewing and swallowing, he pointed at the orange gooseberry garnish on the plate with his fork, trying desperately to distract himself from wanting to demand to be taken back up to the room and fucked bent over the sofa. “What’s this thing? Can I eat it?”  
  
Freddie gave Ephram a little nod and a smile at the notion that taking a moment to step away from the pace and the expectation of life in Soapberry Springs had allowed for the crystallisation of his thoughts on marriage in the official sense, fixing his tea when it arrived and sipping on it. “That makes sense,” he said, his voice soft and warm. “I mean, you wear a lot of hats at home, sweetheart; and sometimes even you’ve got to take them off and just breathe for a moment.” The fairy smiled again. “If only so that you can re-position those hats a bit more comfortably once you’ve put them back on, hm?”  
  
“And I’m glad that you feel as though you’ve gotten that here, love. That’s exactly what I’d wanted from this weekend.”  
  
On the subject of Ephram’s particular wants in regard to how this new ‘proper’ sort of marriage was going to be accomplished however, Freddie just grinned and gave a little shrug. “Anything suits me, really,” he said, “I just wasn’t sure if this was something you’d want your mum, and Cheyenne, and Alesha present for. But if you’re not bothered one way or the other, my darling, then I’m perfectly happy to do either as much, or as little, as feels right.”  
  
“Just the two of us and Ollie at that church you’re fond of, and then back home again? Or a trip to whatever office keeps the forms we’ll need to file, and then a night at the inn?” Freddie chuckled, the happy light in his eyes becoming a bit more mischievous. “I mean, I’d advocate that you take at least a fortnight off for a honeymoon… the sort where we spend the first week entirely naked, exhausting one another… but that’s just greedy, isn’t it?”  
  
The fairy lifted his teacup again. “So long as I’m married to you at the end of things,” he smiled, “I’m not fussy.” And then he grinned a second time. “Well… I am fussy, obviously,” he clarified, laughing, “-but not about this. This, I just want to enjoy.”  
  
Ephram’s discreet announcement a few moments later of his inclination to put his mouth to use for more than just breakfast though, had added a crackle of carnal electricity to the air between them, and Freddie unabashedly continued to subtly stroke the growing hardness between his husband’s legs with his foot - even after he’d been called out for it.  
  
And Oliver glared at his fairy as his sausage was placed in front of him, harumphing to himself before choosing to ignore Freddie entirely; leaving them to it. Honestly, Freddie had been less bloody hormonal as a teenager.  
  
And together? Sodding incorrigible! Not a lick of decency between them!  
  
But since they’d technically just gotten engaged - their marriage of two years notwithstanding - Oliver supposed that he could be big about things. And that whatever happened under the table - so long as he could feign ignorance of it - could be allowed to continue.  
  
In lieu of a wedding gift.  
  
“My own side?” Freddie repeated as though he’d never heard those words put together in quite that way before, eyelashes batting guilelessly as his foot kept up its ministrations, “I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about, Ephram.”  
  
He smiled again, pulling his chair in a bit and tucking into his waffles, licking the sweetness of the syrup from his lips. “And that’s a cape gooseberry, love - which is a bit like a tart fruity cherry tomato. So even though it’s really just a bit of garnish for the sake of prettiness and colour, it’s very much edible - once you do away with the little paper-lanterny part, any road - if you’d like to try it, sweetheart.”  
  
“You’s the only one what don’t mind seein’ me hatless.” The sentence couldn’t be called strictly sentimental, but the tender murmur of Ephram’s voice and the softness in his eyes made it clear how important it was to him, the opportunity to let himself just be. For a man who often wondered how much of himself was demon and how much was really him, it was a cherished opportunity and one that he’d only ever had with two people: Alesha, and Freddie. With them – in separate ways – Ephram ceased to worry about how Anaxis might have shaped his personality and, if that were the case, the self-loathing that would follow. Would have to follow.  
  
Freddie (and two somewhat lesser players, Greece and New York) allowed Ephram to stop ruminating over the possibility of discovering that he was, in fact, just an Ephram-shaped fleshbag and most of him was Anaxis. He certainly wasn’t thinking about it now, dressed up beautifully and sitting at this elegant breakfast with his handsome husband and trusty friend.  
  
“Let’s keep it small, then, honey. Just to the church and back sounds perfect. I mean–” Ephram picked up the gooseberry and bit off the business end of it, setting the papery section back down on his plate, “–my family already got over the whole wedding thing with Ruby. That was enough for them. We ain’t got much of a tradition of white or fancy or done-up weddings, us Pettalines.” He smiled fondly at Freddie. “I want you wearing white, though. Or I will. One of us has to.”  
  
Finishing off his breakfast with a flourish of his napkin, Ephram said indulgently, “You can be a fusspot or not, dumplin. You know how much I love to see you happy.” He lifted his hips slightly, boldly pushing against the pressure of Freddie’s foot. “Especially when you’re inside me. That one takes my breath away every time.”  
  
Meeting Ephram’s eyes and holding that soft gaze, Freddie reached across the table and took his husband’s hand, lacing their fingers together and squeezing. “Well,” he murmured, his smile soft, “-I’ve always always had a talent for knowing valuable wonderful things when I see them.”  
  
The fairy held Ephram’s hand for another few beats, drawing it to his lips to press a kiss to his darling’s fingertips before letting him go again, lest their breakfasts get cold. “Small it is then, love,” he smiled over his waffles, reaching for his tea, “You let me know when you’d like to do it, and I’ll fix everything up with the church.”  
  
“And you know I’d love to wear white for you, sweetheart,” Freddie added, a little rush of warmth blooming in his chest as he returned Ephram’s smile. “Unless you’d prefer to? Whatever you want,” he grinned, “-and I’ll sort all that out, too.”  
  
Only a few bites behind his husband, Freddie laughed when Ephram gave his blessing on whatever fussiness the fairy was likely to apply to their tiny little ceremony. After all, there would certainly be some - Freddie was who he was, for better or worse; and even though he, Ephram, and Ollie would be the only ones in attendance, there would be clothes and flowers and assorted other little details to manage; as well as a photographer to be employed (Freddie didn’t think at least one wedding photo was overstepping the bounds of ‘small’) - but he would try to keep his inclinations toward excess contained as best he could.  
  
When Ephram rocked his hips up to push against Freddie’s foot however, glorying in a very specific sort of the fairy’s happiness, Freddie groaned softly - his pupils immediately blowing wide enough to eat up most of the blue - and he pulled his foot back again, slipping it back into his shoe under the table, as he fixed his gaze on his darling.  
  
“Alright, the car’s waiting out front,” he said, “-so if sightseeing is something you still want to do, love, I suggest you go get in it, yeah? And I’ll be right behind you.”  
  
“Because if I take you back upstairs now, it’s very unlikely that I’ll be letting you out again.”  
  
Ephram would never get tired of it. Even if the words became rote for Freddie – which Ephram knew they wouldn’t – the sentiment behind them would always stand. That he found Ephram (in all his imperfection) to be wonderful, (in all his varied deficiencies) to be valuable. And without the extra baggage of Ephram’s own parenthetical convictions, at that. He was glad that his fairy gave them both a few moments to take it in and let the idea of being valuable sink a little further into Ephram’s view of himself, leeching out its deep-sunk conviction of worthlessness.  
  
It was amazing how Freddie could do that, seemingly without any effort. Ephram knew how much effort it took to get them to this place, though, and he appreciated every moment of it. For two people like them, being that open after horrendous betrayals would always be hard graft … until it wasn’t.  
  
And that was where they were. And that was why Freddie was promising to wear white for his witch.  
  
Freddie’s naughty trespassing under the table had them both ready to pull their clothes off, alright, but then Freddie marshalled his self-control and directed them back to the day’s programme, flexible as it was. The possessive nature of Freddie’s comments, his telling Ephram what to do, it was like Freddie was still touching him; Ephram stood politely, murmured, “Yessir,” and brushed a kiss behind his lover’s pointed ear before heading outside to the car.  
  
Once inside, he slumped down in the seat with a heavy, contented sigh, eyes shutting so he could cling to the scent of his fairy that much longer. “Mister driver,” Ephram drawled, “sometimes it actually is a wonderful world, ain’t it?”  
  
It took nearly every ounce of wherewithal that Freddie had ever possessed, once breakfast was over, to march Ephram off to the car though - only the knowledge of his witch’s excitement over his New York wishlist keeping the fairy even remotely on course - and that little ‘ _Yessir_ ’ and tease of lips at ear almost undid the whole thing. His cock swelling in his trousers, Freddie drew in a long slow breath as Ephram made his way through the lobby and out into the mid-morning sunshine, eyes drifting momentarily closed as he let it out again, willing his prick to behave itself.  
  
He counted to five, tightening his grip on his libido, and when he finally opened them again, it was to the sight of a withering look of judgment from Oliver, who’d remained behind with his fairy to sort out the bill.  
  
“Oh, piss off,” Freddie told him, rolling his eyes fondly at the little Chin before motioning subtly to their server for the cheque. “You knew what you were getting into today.” The fairy beamed. “And that was before he’d proposed - so if you think I won’t be having him now, first chance I get,” Freddie chuckled happily, “-then you don’t know me very well at all, mate.”  
  
Ollie, for his part, made an effort at a snort of disgust, but couldn’t quite manage it, and instead, just butted his head indulgently against Freddie’s bicep, too pleased for him - for them - to achieve a harangue of his usual standard. And Freddie gave him a cuddle, signing his name with a flourish to charge everything to the room, murmuring, “I honestly never knew it could be like this, Ol. I never thought I’d ever have anything like him…”  
  
And Ollie, who knew that already - who’d _always_ known it - just cuddled closer, dignity on the back-burner this morning.  
  
Charges and gratuities sorted, the two of them stepped quickly into the loo in order for Freddie to give himself a bit of a primp, and re-adjust his cock in his trousers - and then they were off, striding out to the car like they owned the city itself.


End file.
